


"All Press is Good Press!" ...is a Trap

by PaperAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Angst and Humor, Castiel Acts Like Endverse Castiel, Dean is In Over His Head, Destiel Harlequin Challenge, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Dean Smith has a problem.  As the publicist for Hollywood bad boy Castiel Novak, it’s Dean’s job to keep Cas in the news.  So far, the actor’s done a damn good job himself - partying, drinking (hell, activities the office has had to pay people off to keep their mouths shut about) and his public escapades have made it easy.  But Castiel has a secret, and when that secret is revealed in the most spectacularly disastrous way, no amount of money will cover-up this bombshell.  So it’s up to the publicity team to spin it.They decide the best course of action is to distract from the scandal and make the public fall in love—with Castiel’s secret committed relationship.  The one that doesn’t exist.  Yet.The team wants someone they can trust.  Someone in the inner circle.  That someone is Dean, who’s always had a stupid, secret crush on their client.  But what will happen when Dean realizes that for him, the romance is no longer pretend?  Can Cas love him back, or is he just playing a role?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All the love to my babe [whataboutthefish](http://whataboutthefish.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this fic, and being my soulmate <3 Always, always there when I need her and I adore her to death!
> 
> **Ann's Notes:** This fic was written for the [Destiel Harlequin Challenge](https://destielharlequinchallenge.tumblr.com/) and I wanna send a huge shout-out to the mods for putting this together! I had SO much fun with this project! It was fantastic to be a part of and I enjoyed every second

Dean Smith had done his fair share in the management business, he worked with agencies that represented models, musical artists, fashion designers as well as actors.  He was very, _very_ good at his job as a publicist.  He had a system, those within the company were competent, they worked as a well-oiled machine and represented their clients with pride.

It wasn’t until they decided to manage Castiel Novak that everything Dean knew and loved about his job began to unravel.

All the team saw were dollar signs, but Dean had a different outlook.

He could see the entire staff falling into a downward spiral of chaos - mark his words!

Before any client was even considered, Dean did extensive research about their background and whether they were a good match. _Just_ before he was going to advise the team his vote was a _massive_ fucking _‘no_ ,’ they’d already signed the actor on the dotted line.     
  
Dean had a feeling he looked like a pissed off cat, his back shooting up into a rigid, harsh angle, hair standing up on his arms because of this terrible decision (hell, he may or may not have hissed) and for the life of him, Dean tried not to make a scene.

That wasn’t him.  No, that wasn’t who he was at all.    
  
Dean Smith was calm, collected, and he would make the most out of _any_ situation that was given to him.  He was a hard-worker, he-

Tried to replay that mantra, over and over again, because (just as he predicted!) Castiel “call me Cas” Novak was a _hot mess_.

There was no way around this - Dean deserved a freakin’ raise.

\-----------------------

Castiel was in-between movies, so it was currently their job to keep him relevant.  The old slogan “all publicity is good publicity” was a fine line they walked, because he was _always_ making headlines.  He couldn’t stay out of the tabloids if he tried, and it sure as hell wasn’t for philanthropy or political reasons.   
  
When Castiel headed out to the bars, he partied, and it wasn’t merely casual drinking.  He was a shitshow and the paparazzi ate it up.  The team was always close behind, they’d had to pay off chicks to delete the photos taken on Snapchats of him snort coke in back VIP lounges but luckily everyone was usually silenced by money.  It was like pulling teeth when they attempted to pry any other defaming information from Cas the next day.  Usually he was too blitzed and high to recall what the hell had even happened.

Today was already a horrible day and it wasn’t even noon.  Dean had already taken his meds because of the pulsing, throbbing pain in his head threatening to break, and it was all because _he_ was stopping into the office.

Dean didn’t know when, and he really didn’t want anything to do with it.  In fact, he was musing about taking his lunch break whenever Cas was scheduled to-

“Hello, Dean.”

Too late, goddammit…well, he had good intentions.

He pasted on a smile and looked up from his desk to greet him.  It honestly wasn’t fair that this man was just a real-life wreck, because he was undeniably attractive and a truly brilliant actor.  

“Hey, Cas.  How are you doing?” Dean greeted as welcoming as he could be.

The man sauntered over, hands deep in his leather jacket and reeking of cigarette smoke when he helped himself to sit on the edge of Dean’s desk.  “Fantastic.  Always a pleasure to see you.”  He gave him that once-over he always did, the one that made Dean hot under the collar.  “I’m told I’m meeting with Charlie about something.  Do I get any hints?”

To be honest, Dean didn’t know that it was Charlie who called him in.  He thought it was a routine chat about upcoming auditions and preparations.  Not to mention that Charlie was the one who dealt with the cops, and the hard-hitting media, if need be.  She soothed over the messes, she was…well, damage control.

Shit.

That didn’t mean _anything_ good.

He realized he was blankly staring off into Cas’ eyes and then shook himself.  “Actually, I have no idea.”  Dean watched him shift uncomfortably, and by the tell in his body language he had to ask, “…Do _you_?”

“There’s a…possibility.”

“A possibility?” Dean echoed, “You either know or you don’t.  Is this something I need to be prepared for as well?  I’m your publicist, I’m-”

“No fun.”  Cas leaned across the desk, right into his personal space to pronounce the words, “Such a waste of a beautiful face, Smith.  I could show you a good time, if you’d let me.”

Trying his hardest not to get flustered (this was _exactly_ why he avoided the man in real life!) Dean huffed a groan and ordered, “If you have an appointment with Charlie, you shouldn’t be late, you-”

The back of his hand brushed Dean’s cheek and Cas laughed as he said, “When you blush it brings out your freckles…”

“ _And_ you’re high.  Wonderful.”  Dean swatted his arm away, snapped his fingers and pointed at the door.  “Charlie.  Meeting.  Go!”

He pouted dramatically and hopped off the desk.  “I’ll come see you on my way out.”  Cas winked and sauntered to exit out the door with that stupid swagger.

And, dammit, if that ass didn’t look so good in those shredded skinny jeans…

Dean grunted in frustration and buried his face in his palms, elbows propped upright on the desk.  It was bullshit!  Castiel was insanely infuriating and left Dean in a whirlwind of madness whenever he stopped in.  He could only hope that he forgot his promise and whatever this meeting was, it happened and Castiel left the building! 

He had no idea if he could handle two rounds of the actor for the day, Dean’s heart may just give out.  Or there was the possibility that he may have a stroke. The migraine from Cas’ impending arrival was already bad enough.  Now that Dean thought about it, maybe just biting it would be the best option…

\-------------------

With one more glance at the clock, Dean saved all his documents and shut his computer down.  He jotted down a few notes on a scrap piece of paper to remind himself in the morning and just when he looked up, he saw Castiel in the doorway.

Except, he wasn’t stopping, he was charging.  Straight for Dean.

What the hell was going on?!

He couldn’t even make out words before the man grabbed the back of his chair, swung it around and proceeded to straddle his lap-?  In the next second, he cuffed his finger underneath Dean’s chin and forced his attention upward.

Before he knew what hit him, Cas closed the distance between their lips and pulled Dean into a searing, hot kiss.

He was flailing under Cas, the intensity, the shock of it all, not to mention how good it felt…but this was crossing a line!

Dean put his hands on the other man’s chest and pushed him, needing some distance but also needing to catch his breath because his heart was racing and the air was sucked from his lungs.  Cas wore a cocky smile and didn’t even attempt to get up as he watched Dean’s every move with interest.  He continually looked down at Dean’s lips before he could find the words.

But before Dean admonished him, a voice sounded from the doorway.

“Yeah, it’ll totes work.”

“ _I’d_ believe it, so long as Dean gets on board.”

“Yeah, that was hot.”

Dean whipped his head over to conversation, “Excuse me?!”

Charlie was wearing a grin with her arms crossed while Jo looked thoughtfully upon the situation.  Did they not see that their client was sexually harassing him?!  Wait - now that Dean thought about what they were saying…

He stammered out, “W-what’s going on?”

“Dean,” Charlie began dramatically, like a game show announcer, “Meet your new significant other!  Castiel Novak!”

“What?!” he blurted out.

Cas ran a hand through Dean’s perfectly styled hair, deliberately messing it up and saying, “Oh, we’re gonna have so much fun.”


	2. Chapter One

Dean was pacing and trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.  And why _he_ had to be the scapegoat (although, to be honest that was the only thing that made sense - because he _was_ the most competent).

“So some guy you had sex with _before_ you got famous filmed you two.  And it’s gonna hit the press soon,” Dean couldn’t stop moving as he spoke, summarizing, “So we’re gonna spin it as you finally coming out.  Then, to make it endearing, this being a relief because now ‘you don’t have to hide the boyfriend you’ve been in a committed relationship,’ for years or something.”

He jerked to a halt and glared at the women.  “But because there’s _clearly_ no boyfriend, we have to find one.  And you, _without_ my permission, decided on _me_.”

“Who else was it gonna be?  Friggin Sam?” Jo snorted out, and almost too quickly, Dean interrupted with, “No, no, that’s stupid.”

Because, okay, maybe he could do this.  Although there were many details to work out and this would directly interfere with…

Everything.

Holy crap.

His schedule, his routine, his nightly unwinding, his yoga, his meal prep, his gym time, his television shows, his morning routine, even that new oil pulling he’d begun, this… _literally everything,_ if they were encroaching on one another’s schedules, would be completely and utterly ruined!

“Dean?  Dean!” Charlie rushed over to him and her arms were around him shoulders, “Deep breaths, okay?  I can see you starting to hyperventilate.  This will be fine, okay.  You’re gonna be so good at this.  Just…play it out for a little while.  It’s only for the headlines, then Cas will get another movie, he’s got three auditions coming up, then you’ll be old news.  Okay?”

She was right, he _was_ having a panic attack but her words were soothing as she led him to sit and put his head down between his knees.  Fuck, he was trembling, he couldn’t catching his breath, he could feel his heart pulse in his ears and he didn’t bring his anxiety med!  But this...     
  
This was temporary, he’d be all right, he could do this, he could-

Another hand, a much larger hand was on his back, and a familiar, deeper voice was oddly calming as it said, “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, I didn’t mean for you-”

“It’s alright, Cas,” Charlie assured, as Dean’s breaths slowly evened out.  “This…isn’t really about you.  It’s kinda something else.  Something I should have seen coming.”  

When Dean finally sat up the entire way with his deep in-through-his-nose, out-through-his-mouth calming technique, he offered both the redhead and Cas a smile, after all, he didn’t expect him to do much of anything.  It was good they weren’t in a real relationship, or he’d be headed for the hills, after that near-episode.  Still, dammit, he could do this!

“Okay…” Dean said slowly, still a bit shaky, but they _needed_ to plan this out.  Even if it meant stumbling through it.  “Let’s…get out a planner.  We’ll need to be seen together soon, right?  And…does that mean we’ll have to live together?”

“Well, since you _were_ hiding and living separate lives, you’d both probably have your own places,” Jo thoughtfully said, but added, “Except, once the paparazzo’s got your number, Dean?  You’ll have a tail.  And since you’re out and proud, you’ll have to take turns staying at each other’s places.  Together.”

“Figured.”

“Well, the first event won’t be much of a problem,” Cas led in with.  And then a grin that was simply devilish wormed its way onto his features, “Do you have a nice tuxedo, Mr. Smith?”

Dean blinked widely, not liking where this was going.  “Yes, but what constitutes ‘nice,’ Mr. Novak?” he mimicked the same tone Cas had used with his name.

“The Oscars are in less than a week.  I may not be nominated this year because of that television series, but I’ll be required to walk the red carpet.  You’ll be my plus one, of course.”

With his jaw dropped, Dean balked, “The freakin’ _Oscars_?!  N-no, I can’t-”

Charlie smirked wickedly and said, “You two have a lot of homework to do on one another.  I’d say you lovebirds call it a night, get to know each other because God knows _what_ they’re gonna be asking you in those interviews!  We gotta make it look real!  We need heart eyes and romance for the gossip rags!”

“She’s right,” Jo adamantly agreed, “You need to know each other inside and out.  And you’ve got less than a week before they tear into you.  And, who knows how long you’ll be a sensation.  We don’t know when Cas will get his next big role!  Go get comfy and be ready, Dean.  We’re gonna leak the info as soon as the sex tape leaks.”

Dean exchanged a glance with an almost gleeful Cas who reached out and took his hand.

With pursed lips, he stared at their joined hands and even though Cas initiated it...Dean guessed it didn’t feel horrible, or anything.  Maybe, Dean could even reel him in and turn his bad habits around.  Hell, now that he thought about it, _Dean_ could hold the reins in this situation.  A grin was working its way onto his face, because when he thought about it, Cas _wouldn’t_ be partying, fighting and coking up now that he came out with his 'boyfriend.'

They both had stock in this, Dean was going to make the best of this situation and really, there were positives to the situation.  And, yeah, Cas’ hand really didn’t feel too bad in his, at all.

He even wondered if Castiel knew he was gay?  Or did he not care?  Was Cas even…?

Well, they’d be getting to know each other soon, right?

“Your place or mine?” Cas asked in a way that actually made Dean feel comfortable.

“Mine is preferable.  There are things I need to get from home for work tomorrow.”

Cas nodded and squeezed his hands, “All right, babe.  Lead the way,” then kissed him on the cheek.

He knew he was blushing, he could tell by the way the women were trying their damnedest not to laugh and he swallowed.  Hard.  Hopefully, Cas didn’t make a wreck of his place and he was well-behaved.  God, it felt like he was speaking about a dog he wasn’t sure was house broken or not.

Dean looked at Charlie, then Jo and began to march out of his office.  “Here goes nothing.”

\-----------------------------------

Since the news hadn’t hit the media, no one was following them.   _Yet_.

Dean was free to collect his things, head to the elevator and walk to his car in the parking structure.  Unfortunately, he had a “boyfriend” in tow, one who would get his own car tomorrow when Dean went to work in the morning.  Cas was loving every second of this, it was obvious by the skip in his step and all the goofy smiles he would send Dean as they were walking.

Which brought Dean to his first point when they were in the car, Dean instantly clicking his seatbelt on.

“If I’m gonna have a boyfriend, I want one who’s coherent.  You better drop the drugs or at least ease up,” he pointed a finger at Castiel who looked downright shocked.

“But that’s my entire persona!  Not to mention my-”

Dean reminded him with a forced smile as he backed out of the parking space, “You’re getting a _new_ persona.  And if you were in love, in a committed relationship, you would care about what your boyfriend wants.  It’s not drugs, sex, rock and roll anymore, buddy.  If we’re gonna save you from scandal?  You’re going to have to make sacrifices.”

Cas didn’t say a damn thing until they were on the road, he didn’t even pay mind to the fact that Dean’s car was beeping every ten second to tell the passenger to buckle up.  Nope, the actor was pouting.  Or trying to put the pieces of this charades together on his own.  How far he’d go, wondering if he’d rather say screw it - or that’s what Dean was guessing, at least.  He really had no idea what went on in that head of his.

For all the time they’d been managing him, the debacles he’d gotten himself into were not only trouble, some of them were downright _insane_.  But he did well, keeping himself relevant and a hot topic in the news.  They just needed to spin _the_ hot topic, and Dean did not need Cas acting like a child right now.

“Fine.”  He finally said from the passenger’s seat.  “None of the hard stuff.  And…nothing I can’t fake sobriety through.”  Cas glanced over and asked, “Is that amenable?  Meeting halfway?”

While Dean ground his teeth, he evenly stated, “For now.  You need to…be _with it_ enough when we figure out our plan.  Draft our story.  At least acting is right up your alley.”

“By the time we’re ‘home’ I’m sure the pills will have worn off.  After all, it was a very long and disastrous meeting,” Castiel groaned out and sunk into the seat, finally growing annoyed enough to fasten his seatbelt.

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed and commented, half to himself, “I suppose dating me _would_ be a disaster.”

Dean almost jumped out of his skin and had to jerk the wheel to stay in his lane as a hand appeared high on his thigh with the word, “Quite the opposite.”  He looked over to see a shit-eating grin on Cas’ face.  “That’s the part I’m quite looking forward to, boyfriend.”

“Jesus!” he cursed out from the spike of adrenaline, “You can’t just…do that when I’m driving!”

Dean was flustered and he knew Cas was enjoying every second.  He had already figured out some buttons from their work relationship - but now that they both had more bonding sessions the damn actor would figure them _all_.  Hell, Cas would take great joy in doing so.  Which was probably why the asshole was now massaging his thigh!  Just to see him blush!

Castiel didn’t get much time, as they were already pulling into a gated community.  It was nearly graceful, how quickly Dean parked, slipped out the front seat, grabbed his things from the back and asked, “Are you coming?”

He couldn’t help it, the words, “I’d certainly be up for it, if you are,” just naturally fell from his tongue.

Still, Dean just rolled his eyes and got out the key to what appeared to be a townhouse within the subdivision.  “We’ve got homework.  Lots of it.  No time for innuendos, Cas.”  Even as Dean said the words, he knew damn well the actor wouldn’t listen to them.  Castiel was a giant walking, talking innuendo, filled with this sexual energy and when they got into the entry of Dean’s home, every little touch, the way Cas just brushed against him deliberately, proved that.

This wasn’t good.

Dean went about putting his things down on the table and told Cas, “You’re free to explore,” since he’d rather not give a tour.

Plus, he needed to collect himself.

The more he thought about it, now that Cas was inside his place, the more concerned he was.

Yeah, he was attracted to the man.  Who wasn’t?  They’d be blind not to be, and playing boyfriends would involve a certain amount of PDA and intimacy.  No doubt, Cas would probably push the envelope with him, since he couldn’t go to his normal wild parties and hook up with his flavor of the week.  Or those orgies that they needed to do a little bit of damage control on-

The whole point was Dean prayed that Cas didn’t look _to him_ for sexual release, just because he was the only warm body around.  That…just wasn’t Dean.  Not in a million years.

He was too busy for relationships in the first place, he didn’t even do one night stands because he valued his job, himself, and wanted something _meaningful_ one day.  But that day kept getting pushed back the more and more he worked.  God, he was boring.  He was ill-suited to wrangle Castiel, but at the same time (on paper) he was the best in the company.

How did he end up in this position…

Dean had zoned out on the papers when he heard Cas’ voice say sincerely, “You have a lovely home, Dean.  It’s remarkably like you.  To a T.  Organized, contemporary yet minimalist.  Not a picture frame out of place.”

“Yeah, what can I say, I’ve got specific tastes,” he stated, rolling his shoulders and standing up from where he’s been hunched over.  “Do you want delivery?  Or do you want me to make something?  I went shopping the other day so I know there’s enough food in my kitchen for a meal for two.  But you’d probably want something different, huh?”

He found himself stumbling over his words, because in retrospect, he really didn’t know _anything_ about Castiel, and now the first thing that mattered, that was happening, left Dean an awkward mess.  Before getting an answer, he all but dashed to the first drawer in the kitchen and pulled out his stack of delivery menus.

Dean turned back around to see Cas right up in his personal space and said in a shrill voice, “Here.  Menus.  Lots,” because he was caught off guard, again!  Dammit!

“Actually,” he took the menus and slipped them back into the drawer he’d seen Dean pulling them from and (without moving from his bubble) confessed, “I haven’t had anything homemade in, _God_ , it’s been years and years.  If you don’t mind?”

What was curious about it, was that Cas sounded sincere and almost excited at the prospect.  And it was no skin off Dean’s back, he was planning on cooking tonight anyway.  Even without randomly acquiring a boyfriend and bringing him home…

“Yeah, okay.”  Dean finally took a few steps back, almost tripping on his own feet and flashed a smile, “I don’t mind at all.  I actually love cooking, so you’re not putting me out.  If you don’t have anything to do while I’m making the food, you can hang out at the kitchen table.  We can brainstorm?”

Cas nodded adamantly and cut the corner to do just that as Dean headed to the fridge.  He could see the makings of a spinach side salad coming together and then he’d need to decide on the marinate for the salmon.  There were multiple vegetables he could use for the side, but maybe Cas would prefer a starch?  Or-

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, anyway?” Cas interrupted his train of thought, and it came to a screeching halt when he continued, “You’re smart, you’re dedicated, you’ve got a good-paying job, not to mention you’re hot as hell.  So what’s the deal?”

“The deal…” Dean tried to prolong his response as he pulled out the ingredients and set them on the counter, “is that I don’t have time.  No one would put up with me because work is my life.  Especially in LA, where people are high maintenance to begin with, and there’s no room in my schedule for dating.”

When Cas didn’t respond, Dean took a chance and looked over to see the actor appraising him with his arms crossed.

Finally, with a cluck of his tongue his said, “That’s a true tragedy.”  His tone changed into something completely different, and he clapped his hands.  “Okay, where did we meet?  How did we fall in love?  What’s the story?”

“I think we should stay as close to the truth as possible, just so it’s easy to remember,” Dean suggested, “Say that you were my client, we hit it off but needed to keep it secret, but now we can finally come out.  How long?”

“Have we been ‘committed?’”  Cas mused over the question and said, “It needs to be a little bit so they believe it’s real.  But not too long or else they’re gonna ask if I was cheating on you with all the girls the magazine's pinned me with.”

“Unless that was cover,” Dean pointed out, “wanna go with just under a year, even though the girls suggested more?  That way if we’re interviewed, we can gab annoyingly about how our first anniversary is coming up.  Like lovesick idiots.”

Castiel actually laughed at how pessimistic Dean was about the whole thing.  “You don’t have to act like it’s the end of the world, Smith.  This will be fun!  I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” the last part came out as a purr, but then realizing that wasn’t something Dean would respond to, he corrected himself.  “Haven’t you ever wanted to go to these events?  Haven’t you ever wanted to dress up and have an obnoxious amount of people, fighting each other, just to tell you how handsome you are?  Haven’t you-”

“No, Cas.  I can’t say that I have,” Dean answered honestly, because now that he’d spelled it out…the thought made him sick.

Still, Cas was quick and changed directions once more, “Haven’t you ever wanted a boyfriend?  One that you skipped all the courting and was just there?  You were together, with a snap of your fingers?”

“Actually…” he chuckled, after thoroughly saturating the salmon, “ _That_ , right there, would be amazing.”

“See?  I told you, not all bad.”  Castiel was proud of himself, and he was determined to get under Dean’s skin, apparently.

Even though Dean was now struck with all the other images, he tried to shove them aside as he cooked and threw together the salad.  He was all nerves, but they needed to figure out more.  He reached for his phone and texted Charlie: _If news breaks earlier lmk_

She texted back: _you need to be spending time w ur bf not texting me! But ok np.  Study up!_

\------------------------------

Castiel _hadn’t_ been lying when he said he was basically thrilled with the prospect of a home-cooked dinner, and even the scents coming from the oven were exciting.  He was, more or less, estranged from his family.  It wasn’t like he could just drop by for Thanksgiving, or anything.  A few years ago, one of his brothers had invited him for Christmas.

When he showed up high?  He was…banished.  Or so he figured, since they’d never asked him to join again.  Maybe he traumatized the kids, or something, _hey_ \- Cas just thought he was being a cool uncle, playing with them!  Still, something at that event...changed things.  At least the food, as he remembered it, was delicious.

Almost as delicious as Dean’s cooking.

Jesus fucking Christ, was there anything this man _wasn’t_ perfect at?

It was actually annoying.  

Dean Smith was the _definition_ of perfect, which made Cas _need_ (it wasn’t even a case of want anymore) to _ruin him_.     
  
To shake things up.  To make him let go and let life happen for once!  He wasn’t lying when he’d told the man he had everything going for him.  So maybe he pried, maybe he liked to ask questions and say things to pushed him up against the wall.  But Cas was invested in getting under Dean’s skin, he had been for a while, to be honest.  So any chance to corner him, he’d take it.

Dean was so damn gorgeous when he blushed.  In those moments, his composure slipped ever-so-slightly and he lost a small modicum of control.  Control he fought tooth and nail to hold onto.

Still, Cas was determined to strip it _all_ away.  Even if he had to work slowly.

He’d had his eye on Dean for a while now.  Ever since he signed on with their management team.  Cas made it a point that, even if he didn’t have a meeting with Dean, he’d still drop in.  He wanted to break the ice, but every time he _thought_ he’d made some headway, the next time he saw Dean, the cold had frozen over the spot he’d previously chipped away.

It was frustrating and Cas didn’t know if it was because he was used to getting what he wanted, or if he really wanted _Dean_ that much.  It could be a combination of the two, but the point was that none of his tactics were working!  And they always worked!

He praised the meal (it was worth it, _holy hell_ ) he tried to be a gentleman, or whatever, but he couldn’t control his mouth half the time.  It was a personal problem, he’d admit it.  Ever since he’d mentioned the celebrity part behind being his boyfriend, Dean had…almost shut down.  And that sucked.

“Wanna watch some TV?” Cas asked and went as far as to help with dishes, again trying to be down to earth, or whatever.

As Dean took the last one he’d rinsed off and stuck it in the washer, he shrugged.  “Sure.  I don’t watch a lot of TV so you can pick something, if you want.”

“Wow, you really are all work and no play, aren’t you?” Cas was in complete disbelief because Dean’s life…it sounded like a sick version of torture.

With a feigned smile, he confirmed, “Sometimes full time jobs are just that, Cas.  Not everyone has it as easy as you.”

Okay, that was just unnecessary.  

Cas quipped back from where he was seated on the couch, “That’s bullshit.  I’ve dated plenty of people who leave work at work.  You’re overcompensating for _something_ ,” he sneered and flipped the TV on.

He wasn’t expecting Dean to come stomping into the room with a fierce glare on his face.  “You know why I have a _literal_ fulltime job?  Because of clients like _you_!  I have to constantly monitor social media for damage control before a news outlet picks it up!  Which is normally between the hours of two and five _am_!  I sleep with a laptop beside my bed, waiting for notifications so we can all fix shit in the morning.  And you’re one of many, but you’re probably the most difficult.  So I won’t have you coming into my house and making lewd jokes about my workload when _you_ are my _damn workload_!”

“Oh.”

Dean was still fuming, “Oh?  Is that all you-”

Castiel got up and (not only did he ‘encroach’ on Dean’s personal space per usual) wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, tackling him back down to the couch.  The man was flailing, the wind was knocked from his lungs and just when he scrambled to sit up, Cas swung an arm around his shoulder.

With the remote in his hand, he told Dean, “You need to get used to this,” before he turned on the TV.

Apparently, the bold move worked, and turned the man around so much that he lost his steam and just sat there.

Cas channel surfed for a while until he stopped on a movie.  He tried his luck now and again.  Nothing was too intently sexual.  Every now and then he’d play with Dean’s hair from where his arm was wrapped around him.  On a different occasion, he’s teasingly caressed his neck and his jaw line: that one was swatted away.  Cas was kind of planning on it happening though.

Eventually, it was getting late and Dean yawned loudly.

Almost beaming with pride, Cas pointed out, “You won’t have to worry about me and social media tonight.  That means you’ll be able to leave your computer out here and sleep all the way until morning.”

Dean’s eyes actually widened at that in realization because Cas was right.  He blurted out with slightly excitement, “I haven’t gotten a full night’s rest since…before I joined the company.”

“Maybe having me as a fake boyfriend isn’t so back,” he leaned in and brushed his nose along the shell of Dean’s ear, thrilled to feel the shiver that went through the man’s spine.  “You’ll be getting _many_ restful nights.  How about we go to bed?”

“B-bed, yeah, we should, I-” he jumped to his feet to get away from Cas’ ministrations, but then fumbled because…they’d need to _share_ , wouldn’t they?

He couldn’t exactly force their biggest client to sleep on the couch, and it would be stupid if Dean took the couch and-

“I know what you’re thinking,” Cas said plainly, “And we’ll have to get used to it.  After events we’ll be in swanky hotel rooms, and jig’s up if we get two beds.”  Then, just to help ease Dean’s mind, “I won’t try anything, I promise.  Not unless you want me to.”

Oh, and that beautiful blush was back, making Cas internally rejoice.

Dean’s words were choppy, his nerves showing through when he said, “You’re right.  Let’s go,” and led the way down the hall.  Except, when they were in the bedroom, he realized something else entirely, “You need pajamas, don’t you?”

Looking down to his v-neck and tore-up skinny jeans, Castiel tried his hardest not to be sarcastic, and instead said, “That would be appreciated.”

“Okay.”  He went to work digging through his color-coordinated drawers to pull out a pair of loose sweatpants that tied around the waist to make sure they’d fit, and then a well-worn Stanford t-shirt.  “Hope that’ll do?” Dean asked, as if he was seeking approval.

“It’s perfect,” Cas winked and didn’t bother with modesty.

He didn’t really have modesty, shame or a filter.  He’d lost those things along the road to fame, because those quirks were something that made him who he was.

Which was why even though Castiel may have turned around, he didn’t hesitate to strip down to his boxers right there.  The feel of Dean’s eyes on him made him smirk, and then he slowly (reverse-striptease, slow) pulled the borrowed garments back on.

Right around that time, Dean’s voice went up in pitch when he announced, “Be right back,” and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Although Cas was disappointed he didn’t get to check out his new boyfriend’s body, it didn’t shock him at all that Dean would be shy.  Still, he could be let down.  At least he’d gotten a visceral reaction from him, which was damn interesting, even though Dean was so hot and cold all the time.

Castiel waited because he didn’t want to hop in, knowing everyone had a side they were fond of and Dean may be too polite to shove him over if Cas took his side.  But Dean was gone for a damn long time.  He frowned, wondered if he should go check on him or something.

After a god-awful wait, Dean finally walked back into the room without a word.  He crawled into the bed, taking the side by the window and Cas paused on the edge for a second.  Kind of like he was giving him an out, even though it was a huge mattress and they wouldn’t have a problem as far as space was concerned.

But Dean raised an eyebrow and asked, “What are you waiting for?  I plan on enjoying my uninterrupted sleep.  C’mon.”

Cas tried to suppress his mischievous grin and nodded instead.  “Of course, babe,” he couldn’t help looming over Dean and asking, “Can I get a good night kiss?”

“Hah, don’t push your luck,” Dean snorted and rolled away, his back to Cas.

He didn’t even get to see his puppy eyes or pout.  Well, Dean’s loss.    
  
Yes, Castiel _was_ going to deconstruct him, brick by brick, and there had been a few that came down tonight.  There would need to be many, many more before the sex tape and their official ‘coming out.’  Maybe what Dean needed was a push from his coworkers?

At least they got to know a little bit more about one another over dinner.  Before Cas kicked the sleeping giant…which had been arousing _and_ terrifying at the same time.  The only problem was, the more he got to know Dean, the more he liked him on _more_ than a superficial level.  That could be dangerous.

Although…Castiel liked danger, so it may be just up his alley.

\-----------------------------

The next two days carried on like the first.  They alternated places, Dean getting to see where Cas called home, Cas actually asking if he could cook again and then sending his bodyguard to the grocery store.  They spent the evenings watching some TV, then falling asleep together.  

Something that consistently happened, something they never spoke of, was how they managed to get tangled up every single night.  They _always_ woke up spooning, or on top of each other, no matter what.  Dean, at first, wanted to blame it on Cas.  But then again, he liked it so much and they couldn’t be held responsible, right?

They always awkwardly untangled themselves, then one of them would run to the bathroom and hop in the shower while the other slept in a little longer.

It was day three that everything changed.

The team heard the news - the tape was going to be released tomorrow, and according to Charlie via Dean’s report, they were _not_ ready.

Not ready for the limelight, not ready to convince _anyone_ they were a _real_ couple, and they needed to kick it into overdrive, dammit!

Dean had been offended when the team came to him, but understood because…this really was game time.  Fuck, it was all on _him_ , too, and he knew it.  Cas was born for this, he was an actor but it was Dean who needed to get with it, to accept his role and allow himself to believe Cas was his boyfriend.

He’d held Cas at arm’s length, getting the learning sessions out of the way, all the paperwork and stories together.  It was the practical, ‘applied’ kind of things that Dean had been holding off on.  The physical stuff.  And for what?  For fear he’d be used or fear he’d like it too much?

Charlie let him go early that afternoon and told him the company and Castiel’s career was literally riding on this.  No pressure, right?

Since they’d been alternating, tonight was a night at Cas’.  They’d given each other extra keys just in case they needed to run from the paparazzi and the other wasn’t home yet.  Plus, if that didn’t look ’committed’ Dean didn’t know what did.  When he pulled into Cas’ lavish home, he parked in the driveway behind one of his sports cars.

Yes, _one_ of them.  Cas had three cars, total.  Two of them just ridiculous and unreasonable, and the other was a Ford Fusion.  When he wanted to be incognito.  The others, when he wanted to be flashy or fancy for events, Dean didn’t now.  Although, there was one old muscle car he had to admit he was drawn to…

With a heavy sigh, Dean marched up the steps to the door.  Charlie had confiscated all the work he normally took home back at the office, because he ‘needed to focus on his boyfriend.’  He didn’t have anything but the set of keys to hold and he felt naked.  Normally, Dean would knock and then let himself in.

Today wasn’t really a normal day.  So he went ahead and unlocked all four locks on the door, and when he opened them, Cas was standing right there in the doorway.

Dean jolted back, having not expected him right here, but he supposed the locks _were_ noisy and-

Cas shut the door by shoving Dean up against it.  And pressed their lips together in a surprise, sweet, yet hungry “Welcome Home” kiss.

Dean was baffled and he would’ve shoved Cas off if it was any day other day, but he remembered the team’s words and - _well_ , this _actually_ felt pretty friggin fantastic.  To the point Dean opened his mouth and brushed his tongue against Cas’.  

A hand reached up and grabbed Dean’s hair, asserting a certain amount of dominance as their lips and teeth clashed, everything becoming hotter, and Dean moaned into Cas’ mouth.  His hands surged out and grabbed Cas’ hips, all with the intention of dragging him closer, of slotting their legs together and grinding, except-

When he reached out, the keys clattered noisily on the tile flooring and snapped them both out of the moment.

Cas pulled away and gave Dean his space, both breathing heavily, and he took the time to actually lock the door.

Almost as way of explanation, Castiel reported, “I received many, _countless_ messages from Charlie today.  I wasn’t sure under what circumstances you’d finally kiss me, so I felt it was best to surprise you.  Was that…all right?”

When Dean swallowed, he nodded, praying no one looked down to see the erection most definitely straining against his dress pants.  Damn that fabric for hiding _nothing_!  Right before he crouched down to grab the keys, Cas (naturally) said the exact words he dreaded, yet...expected.  The actor was too damn observant for his own good.

“ _Oh_.  Well, Dean, you’ve been holding out on me.  You and work, you’re _not_ overcompensating for a single thing, are you?” Cas’ voice was dropped low and sensual, the want still evident and, yeah, Dean felt it was mutual even though he was friggin talking about his traitorous dick.  Cas pushed again, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dean had the keys in his hand then dropped them on the table, grousing, “Do you want me to inflate your ego more?  Of course, it was fantastic.  Not that I can see us doing much of that in public, but-”

“It’s not about my ego,” Cas deflated a little before he plainly said, “I wanted to get past that hurdle.  And then…once I began kissing you, I couldn’t stop.  I apologize.”

Squinting at the actor, Dean didn’t know if he was bullshitting or not.  “Well, we’ve got until tomorrow, and your official coming out with me in tow to find a happy medium, I guess.”  And maybe Dean was decently thrilled with that idea, because _that_ first kiss?  Yeah, he was lucky it ended when it did or else he may have to do more than dry clean his pants.  “We’ve got a lot to work on tonight.”

“I know,” Cas shrugged and led the way into the living room, plopping down on the furniture.  “So Charlie let you out early.  I think one of the things we’re going to have to do at some point tonight is transfer a handful of my clothing to your place and vise versa.  If we’ve been together so long, half our wardrobe would naturally reside at our partner’s home.”

Dean nodded, that made perfect sense.  It seemed as though Cas had been thinking about this, but something else was eating at him.  Even though he had a devil-may-care attitude, he wasn’t invincible.  The time Dean had been spending with Cas, even though it hadn’t been constant, he could still pick up on little _tells_.

So he tried something that was out of his comfort zone.

He reached across the space and took Cas’ hand into his own, prompting, “Hey, are you okay?  You seem a little off.”

Surprised by Dean taking initiative, Cas interlaced their fingers and shrugged.  “I mean, things that I do these days, I can be held accountable for, you know?  Now, I know what I’m doing while I’m doing it, I know when I’m being stupid.  That goddamn sex tape?  I was a dumb _kid_ , having fun with my boyfriend.  And now that I’m famous and made of money, that’s all he wants.  People can just be assbutts.”

Dean tried not to chuckle at the insult, but he had to agree, “Yeah, they are.  They see dollar signs.  But that’s something else _you_ get to correct.  No one’s gonna be chasing after this douche for an interview, he’s gone.  But when they talk to you, you clear the air because, let’s be honest, the media loves you.”  Those words were honest, because even though Cas’ last project was a limited TV series, he always got rave reviews.  Hell, everyone loved him.   
  
“Like you said, you were just a kid, you can’t get down on yourself.”  He knew this was a touchy subject for Cas, so he tried to show his support by soothing his thumb against the back of his hand.  “You were having fun in front of a _different_ camera and someone betrayed _your trust_.  And I’m gonna be there, right next to you, supporting you.  And our story is gonna trump that, and wash it away - remember: the tape, it's only a _tool_ for you coming out.  Because Castiel Novak?  Monogamous?  On the straight and narrow, in love?   _That’s_ gonna be _the_ headline.”

He blinked openly, and Dean wanted to slap himself in the face because he was most definitely getting lost in those gorgeous blue eyes.  “Dean, I-” he paused, glancing at their folded hands.  “That actually helps.  A lot.  Thank you,” he brought them up and kissed Dean’s knuckles.  “Damn, you _would_ be a fantastic boyfriend, you know that?”

“Nah, I’d be a shitty one, I just-”

Castiel’s free hands lashed out and clamped down across Dean’s mouth to keep him silent.  “Dean Smith.  I’m giving up my lifestyle for you.  I’m going to be fuckin’ celibate, sober and boring for you.  You do not get to put yourself down.  That’s my counter offer.  It’s more than a fair trade, do you understand me?”  

For some reason there was something dangerous about it, something _really_ fucking hot, and Dean nodded.  When Cas removed his hands, his eyebrow raised with a satisfied, “Good.  We’re moving in the right direction.”

“Mm.”  Suddenly, an idea struck Dean.  “Nowhere in the guidelines did we cut out liquor.  Please tell me you’ve got some bottles laying around?  A little liquid courage never hurt anyone.  We’ve got a lot of work to do.  We need to get comfortable until it’s second nature, dude.  Please?”

Castiel figured if this was Dean’s way of coping, so be it.  Who knows, maybe he’d open up more, because it felt as though he wanted it, there was just the aforementioned ‘hurdle’ in the way.  Dean had kissed Castiel _back._ With _just_ as much enthusiasm, hell, it seemed as though he was going to take it a step further, if those damn clattering keys didn’t cock-block them.

So Cas circled around the breakfast bar to a couple cabinets adjacent to the sink and glanced up to Dean.  “What’s your poison, boyfriend?”

“Whisky, Bourbon.  On the rocks,” he scooted up, then appeared utterly blissful when Cas pulled out both, glasses, _and_ shot glasses.

Even though Dean knew he was asking for trouble, it didn’t matter.  He wouldn’t be feeling it in a few shots.  Maybe this _was_ what he needed to get himself past these so-called…blocks.  These fears?  At least that was what his objective was.

He didn’t even want to know what Cas’ were, judging by that wicked grin alone.  Yeah, maybe he really was asking for trouble…


	3. Chapter Two

“We should play a game as a warm up.”  Castiel’s fingers stroked the liquor bottle in a completely inappropriate way, and there was nothing but trouble in his tone.  “Do you like games, Dean?"

“I, uh, depends on what the game is, I guess.”  He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, the alcohol so close.

Castiel took pity on them both and loaded them up with a shot.  They cheered their glasses together and tossed them back.

Once Castiel had finished clearing his throat from the burn, he decided, “Well, we’re really far behind.  Charlie knows it, you know it, I know it.  This is liquor courage to get the show on the road.  We can start the preshow with something, hm, perhaps juvenile.  But it’ll help us overcome fears and become more active.  Truth or dare?  If the person performs, the one asking drinks.  If one refuses, they drink”

Dean’s jaw dropped because this game?  With Castiel Novak and his one-track mind?  This could go bad, really, really fast.  But they’d _also_ get drunk really, really fast, which was the entire point.  Okay, he could do this!  He _would_ do this!  And not get drawn in by the way Cas’ lips looked pressed around the shot glass -

This would be madness, in preparation for the madness of tomorrow.

\----------------------------------

Castiel had taken it upon himself to dig through the cupboards (his disorganization bothered Dean to no end - seriously, _why_ were there bendy straws in with the coffee mugs?!) and found a slew of shot glasses.  He filled them all and lined them up on the table for their ‘game’ so no time would be wasted filling up in-between questions.

Plus, he had a feeling later in the game more whiskey would end up on the counter than in the shot glasses themselves if they poured as they went.  Even though Castiel wasn’t the most organized person in the world, his home was surprisingly clean.  It was only outside of these walls where he partook in the clubs and other ‘dens of inequity’ that could be considered sleazy.

The good new was that Castiel didn’t start outright with balls-to-the-wall questions.  Dean figured that it was a strategy, because he’d rather drink than tell the truth.  

Even though Dean wouldn’t admit it, underneath the actor’s façade, Cas was _smart_.  He knew how to read people, which buttons to push, how to get his way…but not in a sinister manipulation, way.  It was more about appealing to them when the time was right, and if he was rejected, he moved on.

“Am I truly your biggest ‘problem client?’”

That was Cas’ first “Truth or Dare?” after one more shot to ease any tension.  

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion, wondering if Cas just wanted an easy opening for a drink, or what.  

Still, Dean would be truthful.  “Yes, you are,” he could see the man flinch just barely, so he follow up with, “But that’s mostly because I’m usually on your case, and it tends to flood over to the girls, too.  But Balthazar and Ruby are close behind.  They usually catch themselves though.  You keep running like it’s a publicity stunt marathon.”

Cas actually laughed and took the shot, nodding his understanding and saying, “Sounds like me.  I haven’t had an off switch in quite a long time.”

“Haven’t had it, or refused to use it?” Dean tilted his head, trying to figure out the man in front of him.  

Because he knew there was so much more than met the eye.  Just the last few days, Castiel wasn't the person they did damage-control for, not really.  He was…so much _more_ than that.  Maybe that’s why Dean was afraid (terrified, really) to consider becoming intimate.  Even if it was so small as a make-out.  Because this _was_ a kind-of relationship, even if it was on speed, they were still going through the get-to-know-you process.  It was still a kind of courting and Cas was being damn respectful, more than Dean could’ve imagined.  They weren’t falling into bed.  Hell, their first kiss was an _order_ from one of Dean’s coworkers.

This entire charade had begun on the wrong foot (for a charade) and if it had been on the _right_ foot, things…would be drastically different.  This could be something that Dean would want...and that was what was so damn scary.

With a wry snort, Cas blew out through his lips, “What’s the use in using an ‘off-switch’ when you don’t have a reason?”

“Still, you’ve got it half off when it's just us,” Dean pointed out, “You’re not popping pills, going behind my back and hooking up with randoms, at least I hope not…”

“Dean,” Cas leaned forward and made a sweeping gesture to the liquor just ready and waiting for them.  “I think the booze is feeling neglected.”

“Alright, Cas.  Truth or dare,” Dean echoed, trying to come up with something easy - just so he could take a shot.

“Dare.”

 _Of_ fucking _course_ he said that, and naturally, Dean was coming up blank.  He had truths for days, but the dares…well, they all involved much more liquid courage for him to execute.  Okay, this was one that could actually be helpful.

Dean leaned back in his chair and said, “Stand up,” and a hint of lust lit like a faraway flame in Cas’ eyes.  He was waiting eagerly to advance on Dean, but that wasn’t the dare.  Instead, Dean surprised the hell out of him and said, “Show me red carpet poses when your date is a dude.”

Castiel’s jaw dropped, clearly thinking is would be sexy and it wasn’t!  It couldn’t be less sexy, dammit.  He looked offended but gave him a tip of the hat, “Touche.  That’s a good one.  All right.”

He kind of moved to an angle as he explained, “It’s not much different than a woman on the red carpet, at all.  Except you don’t have to worry about falling ass over teakettle from the train on their six-mile designer dress.”  He extended his arm, kind of holding it where Dean’s lower back would be.  “Sometimes when friends are on the carpet, they’ll pose by holding shoulders.  But us!”

He slapped the imaginary Dean’s ass and moved his arm back up to his waist, “It’s more intimate.  You’ll be angled, facing me, too, while we smile for the paparazzi.  But the body language reads loud and clear: you’re mine.  It’s _not_ two bros hanging out.  I’m holding you, showing you off to the world, and as we walk we can hold hands.  Or not.  It’s up to you.”

Dean was taking in every word like it was the gospel truth with intrigue.  “Good, okay, that’s awesome.  We can do that.”  Even though Cas’ body language and promises of ‘you’re mine’ had maybe registered with a certain something below the table.

Castiel hopped back to his chair and Dean took his shot.  “You wanna try it?”

“In a little bit.  After we finish these.  You did say they were lonely, right?”

“You’re correct, Mr. Smith, so-”

“Dare.”  Dean didn’t know what propelled him to do it, but he wanted to see just what Cas would do this early on in their fake relationship.  He had a feeling things would change later, but the actor couldn’t get too pushy now… even though Dean wouldn’t count on it, there was still a little voice inside his head that kind of hoped he’d be bold.

Cas’ expression darkened, all the thoughts spinning around his head, absolutely delightful and amazing.  Yet, maybe Castiel figured he would wait in a few more shots for those ideas.  When the man had the booze he needed, when Castiel was in the middle of slowly seducing him - because that was the plan in all this.

“Show me all the PDA you’re comfortable with.  On me, of course,” Castiel made sure to walk that line of inquisitiveness and professionalism, since tomorrow may be their day in the sun.  Even under all of that, his motives were a whole different story.  “We need to start somewhere, _and_ we’ll need practice.  Or else, I’m afraid, you’ll appear stiff, uninterested, forced and the jigs up.”

Dean’s jaw dropped but he nodded and looped around on the table.

He was an adorable mess of nerves, trying to pull up a strong face, but he couldn’t.  Castiel tried to help him, he got to his feet once more and coaxed in a soothing voice, “Hey, boyfriends, remember?  Just concentrate on that.  How would you treat _your_ boyfriend?  Just imagine you’re head over heels, and you don’t give a shit who knows.  Show me what kinda PDA you’d use on him.  ‘Cause that’s what we’ll do.”

Dean almost looked confused that Castiel had settled the tension - because in most cases he was the damn _cause_ of the tension.  “All right.  You’re not just gonna…be a dead fish, right?”

“No, I swear on it,” he almost laughed at Dean’s wording.

He moved slowly at first, taking Cas’ hand and holding it, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.  This, Cas expected.  They’d been doing it on and off for a damn long time, so at least Dean was automatically comfortable with the pair being linked.  Something that Cas didn’t expect, was Dean using his height against him and kissing his forehead.

Then, both his cheeks while a hand came up to cradle the side of his face tenderly.  Shit, Castiel’s heart skipped a beat when Dean leaned in, with the barest brush of lips to tease.  Then, he angled his head and came back for round two, kissing Cas’ breath away.  

And damn, while he’d thought he’d done good cornering him at the entryway and the way Dean reacted was fucking amazing, when _Dean_ took a little bit of control here, the passion was completely different.  It was not fiery and sexual at all (maybe a tiny bit sexual), it was following their act: romantic, sweet, almost loving and it shocked Cas to his very core.

He had no idea if he’d ever, _ever_ been kissed like this.  Like someone truly loved him, even if it was just for show.  Even the actresses he played across from, they had nothing on this - Dean was…wow.  He was just…there weren’t words.

When Dean pulled away he brushed a kiss to his nose and pushed Cas down to his chair, saying, “I wouldn’t mind PDA sitting on your lap, either.”

“Let’s make it happen-” Castiel was trying with all his strength to keep his mask in place, he grabbed Dean’s hips and yanked him down as he found his seat, so they were both on the same side of the table, laughing.

“Is that alright with you, Mr. Novak?” Dean asked with a grin, finally feeling like he’d gotten one over, like he was one-up.

“I approve of every single one.  But may I add a butt grab from time to time?” he asked innocently, although nothing truly sounded innocent coming from that deep, gravelly voice.

Dean made a show of thinking about it while Cas took the shot, “Yeah, I guess that’s okay.  I mean, that’s just a you-thing.  God knows how many pictures we had to buy out of you beginning sexscapades at parties.  You’re all hands, aren‘t you?”

“Not true-” Castiel was ready to defend as Dean hopped off his lap and claimed his chair.

“C’mon.  Truth or dare,” Dean asked, getting a little frazzled and taking a sip of his mixed drink on the outside of the liquor line up.

Castiel mulled over the choice, because two things were wrong (well, one was actually very, very right), Dean thought of him as a playboy and nothing more.  Which, okay, held a grain of truth.  But, once more, it was about his persona.  He’d dropped his pill popping for Dean, or any other party drugs that were the flavor of the week.  He planned on staying out of the scene (unless Dean was by his side, which he’d hoped he’d come join the fun once in a while) which meant, yeah _monogamous_.

The other trouble was the fact he was achingly hard.  Normally, a make-out wouldn’t do that, but Dean was one of those out-of-reach, on a pedestal men you never thought you’d have a chance with.  And that damn kiss…it sent a shockwave through his system.  He was used to sloppy, to rough and tumble, to fiery which was only a precursor to sex.

Not…that kind of passion.  Like he was wanted, like he truly was loved in some kind of way.  That led Cas to wonder about all the glorious things Dean could make him feel if their naked bodies were pressed together… Roaming hands…

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dean was becoming bolder, too, so Cas came to the conclusion both truth or dare would spell out trouble.

“Truth,” he couldn’t believe the word came out of his mouth.

By the look on his face, neither could Dean.  “How far are you planning on going tonight?  I know it was me who asked for the booze, but I want to know what your secret little game plan is.  You’re… _you_.  And are you planning on using me because you can’t head out there and find your normal new-chick-a-night.”

“First of all,” Cas pointed a finger, “That was many questions rolled up into one truth.  Specify which you want answered.”  He really hated those, because most were downright _accusations_ and more things that Dean believed about him that were skewed.  So goddamn skewed.

After a second of deliberation, Dean decided on, “What’s your plan for tonight on how far this goes.”

“I’m not trying to move it anywhere.”  Castiel shrugged, taking a sip of his own mixed drink, “I only know that we’re behind, we need to eradicate the physical barrier between us if we want to sell it, and right now?  That wall is strong.  It needs to come down.  After that, it’s all up to you.”

“Really?” Dean snorted, because he highly doubted Cas would let it lie.  He got an inch he took a mile.

“Being honest, I liked your PDA dare, I wish for that to come naturally.  I don’t want either of us to hesitate, to wonder ‘is this alright?’  Because it _is_.  This is so, so important, Dean.  You agreed.  You said you’d support me and acting like a true boyfriend is the way to do it,” he tried to press as much urgency in his voice as he could, denying any of it was sexually charged, it was honestly about his career.

Flabbergasted by the raw intensity, Dean nodded and took his shot.  “Okay, I understand now.”

“Not all of it,” Castiel laughed, “But that’s another one for another truth.  How about you?”

“Dare.”  Dean knew Cas was going to begin with his boundary pushing, and he figured he may as well get on board.  He wasn’t going to do it himself, he needed a helping hand.

The, “Take your shirt off,” was almost instant.

But Dean was gaping, “H-how does that help anything?!  I thought this was for the greater good, us ‘kicking it up a notch!’”

With a Cheshire-grin, Cas leaned his chin against his fist and stated, “That’s exactly what I’m doing.  Now, Dean, you’ve seen me nearly naked, it’s only fair you return the favor.”

The internal battle inside his head was so intense he could hear a fucking cannon go off followed by the screaming of soldiers.  Sure, he’d been working out and lost that last little bit of weight he’d worked so damn hard to - it was his “troubled spot” - but he didn’t want to sit here, like a piece of meat being stared at.

“Pretty please?” Castiel’s voice had a hint of undeniable arousal buried in there, and Dean knew this was where they started playing with fire.

Fuck it.

He’d already shrugged his suit jacket off, but when he unbuttoned the first two of his dress shirt, he noticed something extremely appealing and…motivating.  Castiel’s eyes were tracking his fingers with each deliberate movement until he pulled the shirt open and tucked it back over his suit jacket.  There was a moment he even licked his damn lips when Dean grabbed the hem at the bottom and pulled it over his head, this time chucking the white v-neck at Cas’ face.

With a surprised expression, Cas hadn’t realized he’d been openly gawking until he wadded up the shirt and tossed it aside.  Now, he was shamelessly _openly_ gawking, and Dean hadn’t expected a thing less, given the way Castiel always shamelessly flirted.

“Why do you always run away before bed?” Cas asked casually, hoping they could just talk without calling ‘truth’ when he took the shot.

Dean shrugged and said, “To avoid all your obscene comments before bed.”

“Why?” Cas flashed a crooked, slightly drunk grin.  “Do they turn you on and then interrupt your nightly routine because you-”

“Truth or dare,” Dean grumbled, trying to bypass all the shit because, in a way, he was…kind of correct.

They both looked down at the four shot glasses left and knew they had to make them count.  They also knew all of this would be hitting them like it train, it always did.  And then they’d be…practicing getting ready for tomorrow.

“Dare.” Cas could not tear his eyes away from the muscle tone in the man’s shoulders and arms, he wanted to fucking lick him from top to bottom and-

“Take your clothes off, except your boxers,” Dean flashed him a grin.

“Oh!  Nice job one-upping me,” he praised, then asked in a deliberately wanton way, “Couldn’t get enough at night?”

“I want you to feel how I feel,” Dean explained, except it was all for nothing.  

Because, while Dean felt naked, Castiel felt _liberated_.  He peeled article by article from his body and hummed softly when he felt the cool air hit his booze-warmed skin.  He even mentioned, “You could come by during the day, boyfriend, I very, very rarely wear clothes around here, except for company.”  He stepped out of his socks and pants and then marched over to Dean, just to say, “I’m quite certain we’re the hottest couple I’ve laid eyes on,” his fingertips tracing down Dean’s back before he sauntered back to his chair.  “Not to be vain, I only speak the truth.”

“What’s your next play?” Cas asked as Dean tossed back his shot.

Conversationally, Dean wondered aloud, “What should my next play be?”  Since his revenge hadn’t gone according to plan, and he was now distracted, more than anything.  And damn, was he captivated by the image in front of him-

Castiel was all toned, lean muscle.  There was a little bit of bulk through his chest and shoulders (not to mention that amazing ass and those thighs he showed off), places you could tell he pushed himself by jogging or swimming, not a inch of fat on him.  God, and the tattoos.  Dean had never specifically found tattoos to be attractive as pro or con, but the way Cas’ fit together, it was like a masterpiece.  He wanted to lay him out and take time to trace his fingers along the outline of each individual piece, he-

Stop!  Not now!

“See something you like?” Cas wasn’t teasing, his voice was husky and low, reminding him, “I picked truth for you.  Why are you afraid of this job?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying.”

Vehemently, Dean denied, “No, I’m not, it’s just-”

“Anyone else would've spent the night we’ve had preparing with kisses on the cheek, practicing nicknames, yet you barely touch me with a thirty foot pole.  And you must say, we have _electric_ chemistry, so why won’t you….I don’t know, _participate_?”

That, right there, was Dean’s breaking point.  Jo would welcomed him into her life, have been doing couple-y things in public, spending money on Cas’ dime for the ball gown she'd wear to the Oscars.  She wouldn’t bat an eye when he was in close whispering in her ear, she’d probably turn it into a moment, while the cameras were flashing and grab his chin, stealing a kiss.  Because Jo was spunky and stronger.

Hell, Charlie was gay and she LARP’d, so this would be just another role for her!  She’d rock it out, she’d already cemented her place as Queen of Moondoor, why not be Hollywood royalty, too?  It may be a little daunting for her in the beginning, but Cas was excellent at assisting.  And-

Dean’s problem was blaringly obvious.

He obviously had a massive crush, and day by day he was falling for the man in front of him a little more than the last.

Add making out to the mix, add all the carefree touching, making it feel like a _real relationship_ , it could mess with Dean’s head.

Hell, add in sex?  Who knows what would happen then!

But with the falling-for-Cas discovery, isolating the problem was half the battle.  Now, he needed to go on and be that guy who was married to his work, and do his fucking job!

“I will participate.  Truth or dare?” Dean barked out, Cas looking on unconvinced.

“Dare.”  There was a lackluster quality to his voice when he said it, his frustration becoming clear.

“I’m holding the dare for ransom to use after this game,” he tossed back the shot and Cas looked violated.

“You can’t do that!” he ordered, “You can’t write an IOU on-”

“Trust me,” Dean reached over the table and drew shapes on the back of Cas’ hand, “You’ll be glad I did.  Now, last one’s to you.  Make it count.”

Castiel looked down between the flirtatious move and the equally seductive eyes but…he wasn’t sure if he should be doing much.  He wished he knew what Dean was going to do and-

He grabbed his hand around the shot glass and tossed it back, grimacing a bit as he filled up both their whiskey on the rocks to the brim.  Dean looked baffled, because…nothing had happened.  Until Castiel opened his mouth.

“Mine’s an IOU after your IOU,” he returned with a smile.  He stood up holding the neck of the bottle and his glass, and with Dean followed.

The moment they both got up was right about when the coordination failure and giggles set in.  Cas’ giggle?  That was music to Dean’s ears.  Even when he fumbled setting his glassware down on a glass table and Dean had this vision of going to the ER, they managed.  After a hearty chug, Cas didn’t go for the TV, he turned around to ask Dean about this IOU because they had work to do.

And neither knew if it was a good or bad idea that they were half naked.

Although, Castiel did voice it, “It’s unfair that you’re still clothed on the lower half of your body, and I’m not.”

With a toss of his head, Dean almost cackled and said, “Not my fault your dare didn’t go for the full Monty.  Is that your IOU?”

“No.”  Castiel’s voice was clear, concise and proved he was holding out.

Suddenly Cas dropped down to the floor and began yanking Dean’s socks off.  It wasn’t until Cas was back on top of him, ripping the belt away when Dean gasped, “What are you doing?!”

“Putting us on an even playing field,” Cas said so nonchalantly, like he wasn’t forcefully tearing Dean’s clothes away!

Dean smacked him, because Cas’ hands this close to his renegade dick (that _always_ sprung up when he was merely in Castiel’s presence!) and would most definitely cause a “situation.”  So Dean groaned and undressed down to his boxers for him.

“Happy now?!” he demanded gruffly.

The way Castiel gave him a once-over, his eyes darkening when he said, “Very,” stuck a chord in Dean.  This is what craving looked like, and Dean was nervous that his face was doing the same exact thing.  Fuck.

“What should we practice?” Dean kept his voice cool and collected, even going as far as to reach out and ruffle Cas’ hair.  Show him he wasn’t impossible.  That he could be worked with.  That he wasn’t dragging his feet as much as Castiel thought he was.  Dean was just…trying to defend his heart, which was _completely_ different.

“Mm, do that again, but run your fingers through and tug if you want to,” Cas instructed, shifting closer so the space between their bodies was nonexistent.

Sure, playing with each other’s hair is totally a public thing, he wasn’t sure the hair _pulling_ was, but he‘d try it and-

The light moan from Cas’ throat shot all the blood in his body south.  It was like, no matter what, he was oversexed and it was because of _this_ asshole!  Not to mention repressed - but Dean knew that was his own fault.  But he _wasn’t_ going to lose control.  He was actually sitting in a position where he could hide his erection, and turn the tables.

“You like that, don’t you?” Dean mused, tugging again, this time their eyes met and Castiel-

Well, he looked downright feral.  He looked needy, horny, but in the way that he wanted _Dean_ , not merely sex.

Somehow, Cas had enough self-preservation to reel himself back and curse, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be-

Dean scooted closer from where Cas had recoiled, because he _lived_ for that expression.  “Shouldn’t be what?” he asked and wrapped an arm around his back and the couch at the same time.

Just a bit of the tension released from his shoulders, but he shook his head, cryptically saying, “It would probably mess up the entire plan if I-” he huffed and sat up straight before massaging his temples.  “I was foolish to get you naked.  I already found you extremely aesthetically pleasing and now, it’s in overdrive.  Dammit!”

“Isn’t that…normal boyfriend stuff, though?”  Dean said it in a teasing way, a way that he hoped got through to Cas, who was having this extremely confusing break down, considering his normal haughty confidence.  “Aren’t you _supposed to_ want your boyfriend?  I’m not mad.  If you didn’t, it wouldn’t be much of a relationship, would it?  And aren’t we supposed to push it into overdrive and make sure people believe we’re…” he inhaled sharply around the word, “Real?”

Puzzlement set in where all the resentment used to be, and now Castiel was studying Dean.  There was no blush, but poise; the liquor courage in full effect, and his body language was open and positive.

“What was your IOU?” it was Castiel’s hushed question.

“I was gonna see if we could chat about things someplace more comfortable.  Try things in a place that was more comfortable.  As much as I love your living room, the leather furniture, it sticks to my skin.  I was gonna dare you to take me to your bedroom, actually.  Even though now I’m not sure it’s the best time-”

“Hell yes, it’s the best time,” Cas said in excitement and sprung upward, all but running down the hallway and up the stairs.

Dean could barely keep up, because he was only half-way used to Castiel’s house in the darkness.  He didn’t want to miss a step and end up with a broken face.  That, right there, would not be quite as romantic.

He had a light hold on the hand railing, and once he found the door he knew was Cas’ bedroom Dean was decently surprised that it was half-shut and not wide open.

“Cas?” he asked hesitantly, pushing it back and stepping in.

There was a bedside light on that barely lit the room.  If anything, it was for ambiance.  Dean had never seen that light before.  Normally, they’d just flip off the light switch and call it a night, crawling under the covers and always awkwardly waking up atop one another.

“I’m using my IOU.”  Cas’ voice startled the hell out of him, from where he appeared behind the door and shut it the second Dean walked in.

He spun around, staring at not just lust-drunk and real-drunk, sparkling blue eyes, but a very, very obvious erection that Castiel didn’t bother hiding.  Hell, if anything he showed it proudly and Dean’s mouth went completely dry, because even though he’d seen _the_ video, some of the photos-

They did not do it justice, what so ever.  Being up close and personal, Dean was almost shocked it wasn’t ripping out of his boxer briefs because of the girth and length pressing against the fabric.  He didn’t even know he’d licked his lips, until his boozed-up brain looked back up and saw Cas looked utterly thrilled.

“See something you like, Mr. Smith?” he asked, voice a low rumble as he approached.  “Don’t you want to hear my IOU?”

“Uh, yeah, w-what is it?” Dean fumbled with his words, Cas now close enough to grab his hip and wrap his arm around his neck.  Dean could feel his previously interested cock now pulsing into full hard-on status, and he prayed Cas didn’t see, he felt so damn vulnerable, but he shouldn’t, right?  “Spill,” he urged, because the sexual tension could be cut with a knife.

Castiel leaned in, his hot breath ghosting across Dean’s neck as he said, “Let’s table the chat for the morning over coffee.  Right now, I want to do something much, much more productive.”

With an actual frown, Dean paid no mind as Cas backed him up two steps and asked in confusion, “What’s more productive?”

“See, I don’t know when I’ll get this lucky again.”  He smoothly transitioned, grabbing purchase on both of Dean’s hips and shoving him back onto his bed.  Instantly crawling on top of him, Cas’ voice was downright sinful as he explained, “This gorgeous body laid out for me, your inhibitions and shyness on the wayside, your beautiful confidence shining through.  You could probably go round for round with me but-”

“Rounds?” Dean interrupted with a raised brow, “Cas, we’re not-”

“No, we’re not,” he promised, but he was vibrating with some kind of need.  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t take this time and explore each other’s bodies.”  Castiel boldly sucked a mark against Dean’s neck and teased a nipple between his fingers into hardness.  The bold moan he received prompted him to ask, after giving Dean just a taste, “Would that be alright with you?”

But…Dean was torn.  Because if they started, if things got hot and heavy he knew in the blink of an eye he’d be begging for it.  Not because he was a sex addict or anything, but while Cas stared him down, eyes hungry and wanting, Dean couldn’t help but lash out, grab Cas’ ass and grind their hips together.  Because he _wanted this man_.  He wanted Castiel Novak, so fucking bad to hurt.

“Holy shit!” Cas cursed out, inhaling sharply and casting an enthralled gaze over the other man.  “Where didn’t that come from?”

“Maybe it was my lack of inhibition?”  He wasn’t going to let Cas get away with all the seduction.  If he wanted exploring, that’s damn well what Dean would do, as he caressed up and down Cas’ flank, then dug his fingernails into his back, just enough to make the man above him keen and writhe.  “So learning, huh?”

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” he narrowed his eyes as Dean’s touch moved to his chest, making sure not to knock over his arms from where he’d perched above him, and continued moving downward.  “Do you have a-any idea how much self control it’s taking to…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence, because Dean surged up and captured Cas’ lips.  He had the upper hand, he knew he’d stolen the breath from his lungs and Castiel was kissing him back like there was no tomorrow.  Cas had let his weight drop, a muscle-bound sheet of warmth and the beginning glaze of sweat between their bodies.

Castiel kept one hand cradling Dean’s cheek while the other roamed.  He massaged his shoulder, when Dean bucked up off the bed into the friction that was both their cocks in sync, Cas went as far as to grab Dean’s ass and squeeze.  Dean's rear was clearly a fixation of his.  He pulled away, only because he needed to taste him, and he needed to hear the noises that Dean was capable of making.

Remembering how he’d responded to Castiel just teasing his nipple, after biting and licking down Dean’s throat, he fastened his mouth around the nub and rolled it into hardness with the barest graze of teeth and laved it with his tongue.

And that drew out the most perfect reaction:

“Cas!  Oh, God, _that…_ ” Dean whined and tangled his hands into dark hair.

With a grin, Cas moved to the other one while his nails began to stroke up and down Dean’s thighs.  He was a blubbering mess, still rolling his hips, even though from this angle they were colliding with Cas’ stomach.  Yet, the thing that absolutely thrilled him beyond belief was the fact that Cas could feel wetness on his skin.

Dean’s precum had soaked through his boxers, he was so needy, so desperate and hungry for Cas.  And to be honest...Cas made damn sure to worship _every_ single _inch_ of Dean’s body like it was sacred, because he never thought he’d be given the opportunity in the first place _or_ ever again.  Although, he did make the decision to steer clear of his cock - the only way he’d take it to that level is if Dean begged for it, if he knew with clarity what he was getting into.

No, instead he was teasing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, erratically moving up or down, keeping Dean on his toes and driving him absolutely fucking insane.

Cas knew damn well he was at his wits' end when Dean surprised him and babbled out, “Am I just another warm body to you, Cas?  Be honest.  Don't bullshit.”

Shocked, Cas stopped what he was doing and crawled back up to grab Dean’s chin and focus his attention, even though his eyes were arousal-blurry and his jaw was hanging slightly open, lips swollen from their kisses.

“Dean,” he commanded, as Dean boldly moved onto teasing the elastic of Cas’ boxers.  He tried to keep it together as a hand brushed his erection, because even though he’d been memorizing every part of Dean’s beautiful body, Cas was set to burst.  “If you were just another warm body, I would have fucked you by now.  I would have tried from day one.  I would be taking advantage of your drunkenness, bending you over and pounding into you until you collapsed.”

With his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Dean actually had the courage (when Cas was two seconds away from snapping), “Why don’t you?  Is it because you don’t find me attractive?”

With a snort, and then a surprised long moan, when Dean’s hand snaked past the elastic and wrapped his around Cas’ cock, he shuddered, “Q-quite the o-opposite.  I-” he tried to speak, but Dean’s hand jerking him was _too much._  “Dean, maybe we do need to talk.”

Castiel pulled away and completely laid on his side, even when Dean chased after him.    
  
“I thought you tabled that until tomorrow?”  Dean bit his lip, voice hoarse with want as he said, “You literally fuck _anything_ you find attractive.  Last time I knew, you called us a hot couple, so that leads me to believe that you find me attractive.  So what gives?”  Dean scooted closer, pressing, “This is out of my comfort zone.  Trying to be a boyfriend, let alone a good one, is...difficult.  I’m _trying_ for this, what’s going on with you?  I honestly thought you, of all people, would’ve had me pinned down, got me begging and you’d already be fucking me with that huge cock.”

“Don’t say those things-” it came out in one surprising whine, “You have no idea how badly I want you.  All the things I want to do to you, all the things I’ve _wanted_ to do to you for so long…”

He looked taken aback.  “Because you like me, or because I’m a prude?”

“Oh, you’re so much more,” Castiel actually felt a genuine smile warming his face.  “Which is why, no matter how bad I want to claim that tight ass right here and now…I think we should wait.  Until we’re sober.”

“To make sure you _still_ want me,” Dean finished for him with a wry laugh.

Castiel glared something fierce before he kissed him with this all-consuming passionate fervor.  He kissed the self-deprecation right off Dean’s lips, he cradled him with affection, trying to use his body to prove a point.  Sometimes, it was the sensations that registered when you were drunk rather than the words.

When they broke apart, they were desperate for air, Dean clung to him like a lifeline and stared openly.  “I-I don’t understand.”  Then he scoffed, “Neither does my dick.”

“You almost answered your own question, however; it’s the other way around,” Castiel pronounced slowly, a single finger flickering across Dean’s lips and making a trail, a direct line down his torso, his stomach, until it hooked in his boxers.  Dean was holding his breath when Cas explained, “This is to make sure _you_ still want _me_.”

“Heh,” Dean cast an eye down to where he was still just toying with the rim, “Drunken words, sober mind, you hear’a that one?  Maybe I just don’t have the guts to, most days.”

“Oh?” Cas raised an interested eyebrow.  “Are you trying to find some middle ground, perhaps?  Lure me into-”

“Take ‘em off, they're cutting off my circulation.  Now.”  Dean’s order left no room for argument.  “Then yours, too.  We’ll sleep naked tonight.  Talk in the morning.  See where things go.”

Castiel watched him and found the fact that Dean, who normally catered to others, who was the one who received unending tasks with his job, was being mouthy with him.  And, goddamn, did he _love it_.  Except for one problem…

“Dean,” Castiel admitted slowly, “If we go commando, I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself..”

With a self-assured grin, Dean already had his hips lifted for the man to remove his, “Well, you’re not a very good boyfriend then, are you?  Couples sleep together naked all the time.  Because it’s comfortable.  It doesn’t have to be a _sexual_ thing-”

“You know damn well this _is_ sexual,” Castiel all but barked back because of the set up, but ripped off the Band-Aid, pulling the fabric away, past his knees, his ankles and off the bed.  But faced with Dean’s drooling, delicious cock?  He had no idea the words left his mouth, but they did: “ _Fuck_ , I want to taste you…”

There was a slight hitch in Dean’s breathing, but this was something he’d craved since the second he’d witnessed Cas’ erection straining through the fabric.  Of fucking course, he wanted Cas’ mouth to suck him down, he wanted all that and _more_ , but right now he was fixated on something else.

“Your turn.”  He deliberately added an enticing drawl, giving Castiel a once-over, like he was going to eat him alive and the man was not unaffected.

He was panting, making sure Dean was watching as he moved to his knees and slowly pulled down his boxer briefs, and the moment that dick was free?  Dean didn’t bother hiding the thrill that sent a shock-wave through him.

“Cas, I want it _so bad_ ,” he whimpered, watching the man throw the offending article off the bed.  “Feel you stretch me wide open on that cock, _fuck_ , I’d be feeling that for weeks.”

“You’re a completely and utterly horrible, unfair person,” Castiel practically snarled in return, “You _know_ I want that, yet I need to respect you.  It’s something ‘boyfriends’ do.”  He used Dean’s own words against him.  But his fixation on Cas’ cock didn’t go unnoticed and he teased, “You’re really that hungry for it?  God.  I wish you were sober.  I could turn you into a slut for my cock in no time.”

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Dean groaned and demanded, “Why did we do this?  We just set ourselves up for blue balls and failure.”

Cas scrubbed a hand down his face and agreed, “It’s true.  Although,” he began pulling the covers back from underneath them.  “Once we…calm down.  We can fall asleep holding each other.  Without a single layer keeping us apart.  That’s something boyfriends do?”

A flash of a smile lit up on Dean’s face when he agreed, “It is.  But…we’ll need a time out.  I…need to get this under control, or something.”

“I do, as well,” Cas begrudgingly admitted.

This was something absolutely and completely foreign.  He’d get fucked up out of his mind, drugs, pills, booze, and fuck the most gorgeous girl in the club without batting an eye.  And here Dean was, begging for it.  Needing it as much as he needed air, and Cas had _pulled back._

The worst part was the reason why.  Castiel was falling for this man, dammit.  That…never happened.  They waited it out in isolation, both having to think about other things.  Things that didn’t involve amazing, passionate sex or eager, hungry blow jobs.

It took a damn long time, but eventually, Dean rolled over and curled up on Cas’ chest, like he belonged there.  It was an amazing feeling and it was something he had no problems pretending.  Hopefully, the morning wasn’t a rude awakening.  After all, Cas drank shots like water, but he didn’t know Dean’s tolerance.  He supposed he’d figure it out, sooner rather than later.

\-----------------------------

When Castiel woke up, he was alone.  That did not bode well…

Except for the fact that he smelled the fantastic scent of coffee, and it was coming closer and closer by the second.

He perked up out of bed to see Dean, already dressed in his suit for work, bringing Cas a mug with a…strange smile on his face.  It wasn’t like the smile was strange, it was the fact that it was casual, and Castiel didn’t know if that was a sign he wanted to pretend it didn’t happen or…?

Dean placed it into Cas’ outstretched hand and took in a deep breath, announcing, “Today is the day!”

Cas took a single sip, it was just the way he liked it, but set it on the nightstand in exchange for grabbing Dean’s tie.  He hauled the man down until he was back on the bed and directly asked, “How are you feeling-”

“A little dehydrated, needed to pop some Ibuprofen at five am, and my migraine meds should help later, but-”

“About us.” Castiel finished his sentence by taking Dean’s hand into his.  “Can I only assume you were moments away from leaving, and not wanting to discuss it means you regret it?”

That was enough for Dean’s jaw to hang open, but just as slowly he asked, “Do you?”

“Of course not,” he appeared surprised, trying to show the man as much physically attention and comfort as he could.  “I told you…if we were sober, last night would have gone much differently.  But I wasn’t going to take advantage of you.”

When Cas kissed Dean’s knuckles, it seemed to mesmerize him and slowly, incrementally slowly, he looked back up at Cas.  “You know…I thought that was an excuse.  Because it would have been a hell of a good one.”  He chuckled and shook his head, voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t regret it,” then laughed and said, “Do you think we’ve broken through _the_ wall?”

Castiel couldn’t help the wicked grin spreading across his face when he shifted on the bed and thought aloud, “There may be a few more bricks in our way, things we missed out on, but that’s easily remedied.  ….If you still-”

“Don’t!” Dean stopped him and took the initiative to cup his cheeks, which surprised Cas.  “Just…don’t said it aloud.  You already know, okay?  Just let it happen.  Don’t be brash about it, it…stresses me out.  And today, it’s _already_ going to be a very stressful day, I-”

Cas easily moved through the barrier of Dean’s tentative grip and kissed his forehead, “Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

The sincerity in those words caught him off guard, but he nodded, “Thanks, Cas,” and awkwardly stood up.

An amount of time elapsed where Dean just…stood there, and Cas watched him.  He didn’t pry or pressure him, he just waited.  Eventually, with a blush rising to his cheeks, Dean cleared his throat.

“Last night.  You surprised me again.  Respecting me like that.  Even though I was upset at the time, I want you to know that it really says a lot about your character.  Even though I haven’t said this, you keep surprising me every day,” his voice was forced because he was embarrassed and blushing.  “So thank you.”

Before he could completely walk out the door, Castiel called out, “Wait!” and Dean slowed his awkward, mechanical movement to turn back around.

“Last night.  You seemed very taken with the concept that you were just another warm body for myself to lay with, Dean.”  He paused to make sure he had Dean’s undivided attention.  “I’ll continue to say it; you’re _not_.  This, you, _us_?  It’s different.  You’re so much more than that.”

As if it were possible, Dean’s cheeks stained an even more vibrant color as he said, “I, uh, appreciate that.”

With a chuckle, Castiel countered, ”And I appreciate the coffee.  Just remember to be friendly and smile.”

The heaviness of today smacked Dean upside the head once more and he agreed, “Shit, yeah, you’re right.  I gotta go.  If you get any crap about the sex tape, let us know, too.  We’re still doing damage control even though we’re launching the story.  We’ll take care of you on any angle, okay?  Don’t worry.”

With a soft smile, Castiel held all the belief in the world and confirmed, “I know you will.”


	4. Chapter Three

Even though the team _had_ been the ones to break ‘the romance story,’ their spin and their new headline certainly had thingsworking in their favor, they _were_ winning the publicity battle… _Dean_ was not prepared.  He thought he was, but the bright lights of the paparazzi constantly following him, shouting out questions and downright foolish demands was just-

It was really intense.

He thought he could handle it, after all, they’d selected a reputable news outlet to tell their story to, taken some ‘cute’ pictures and announced the love affair.  Like a friggin’ baby announcement.  All the information was in there!  Why did all these people need more from him?!

Even though the parking garage was private, when Dean tried to go grocery shopping, he had to leave halfway through.  There was so much harassment, he was stupid to turn down Cas’ offer of a body guard.  When he reached a stop light in in his car, he finally managed a deep breath, because he had to drive away from the fucking madness!

It was right around then that Cas called.  

He pushed ‘answer’ on his Bluetooth and merely said, “Hey.”

“Hey, you.”  Cas almost sounded worried when he asked, “Did you do all right today?  I saw some things online, mostly people gushing about how hot my boyfriend is.”

With a heavy eye roll, Dean answered tersely, “That’s nice.”

“In case you forgot, I asked if you were alright.”  Cas pressed and Dean couldn’t avoid it.

“I don’t know, man.  This is…how do you do it?”

“Practice.”  He laughed and told Dean, “Lots of practice.  I’ve learned to just enjoy myself.  Now, are you coming home, or what?”

“I guess.  I got chased out of Whole Foods.  Couldn’t even get into the produce section without those vultures attacking me.”  Dean wasn’t sure why he was word-vomiting, it wasn’t because this was Cas’ fault, it was because Cas understood.

“I’m sorry, Dean.  I really am-”

“Hey, no, it’s fine, I just-” he took in a deep breath.  “I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay.  Drive safe.”

When he hung up, Dean couldn’t help but muse how that almost sounded like a real boyfriend calling.  Maybe now that they were ‘out,’ Cas was in full-time character mode?  To be completely honest, it wasn’t that hard for Dean to pretend, either.

Shit.  His stupid “Cas is hot” notion was transforming into “I have an uncontrollable crush” at an alarming rate.

Well, it was way past ‘crush’ at this point.  Especially with what had happened the night before…and then their conversation the morning after.  Dean’s head was in so many different places, it was absurd.

Something else that was really fucking alarming was the fact that Cas wasn’t just waiting for him to get home.  He was waiting outside?!  In the full goddamn view of the photags and other assholes who’d been making Dean’s day a living hell?!

After he parked, he gathered himself, because it was just a short walk up to the patio.  He needed to ignore them, to look excited to see his boyfriend and all that shit that went along with it.  So when he got out of his car, he went into tunnel-vision-mode on Cas and Cas alone.

At least they made way for him.  Cleared a path for their perfect shot.  How…kind.  Dicks.

And at the very end of that rolled out carpet with bottom feeders at either side, yeah, Dean was actually really happy to see Cas.

But instead of ushering him in, getting him away from the media, Cas pulled a fast one Dean should have seen coming!

With a grin and a “Welcome home,” Cas pulled him into a kiss that was just on the right side of dirty.  And Dean, like a sucker, was pulled right into it and didn’t even hear the clicks of the camera because kissing Cas was…frigging amazing.  Every damn time.

When they pulled apart, Dean laughed at Cas and said, “You wanna take this inside?”

“I’d love that,” Cas grinned, taking Dean’s free hand and tugging him inside with that come-hither stare.

Except, the second the door was locked and Dean breathed in a sigh of relief, Cas ran a hand through his hair (still dangerously close) and asked a seductive, “Anything I can do to help?”

And, yeah.  Dean froze up.

Was he faking?  Was he teasing him?  He had no idea how to take the actor’s advances.  Especially these days, with the…things…that had unfolded between them.

Apparently, too much time went by, because Cas’ eyes flickered downward and he stated, “You’re supposed to be leaving company work at work, Mr. Smith.   _I’m_ your current project, and I’m quite certain that I demand all of your attention, right now.”  He took Dean’s briefcase from his all but lax grip and slung it over his shoulder and walked away.

“Hey!  You can’t just-” he snapped, charging after Cas because there were important documents in that, dammit!  Yet, when he set it down on a side table, Dean could breath easily.

Castiel raised a pointed eyebrow and asked, “Yes?” then crossed his arms.  “It would seem you care more about your paperwork than your boyfriend.”

Wait a second.  Was he feeling shunned?  That was the vibe that Dean was getting, but how the hell did he remedy the situation?  How would he, uh, handle a real boyfriend?

“It’s just some of those documents are private and if there’s contracts and-” Dean deflated, “It’s just protocol.  Do you wanna order delivery and we can just chill out tonight?  I know I’m drained from, well, fucking everything.”

Cas’ eyes softened and he even went as far as to wrap Dean up in his arms.  Something that surprised the hell out of him.  But it wasn’t necessarily unwanted.  It was simply different.  So what if he kinda melted into the embrace, he was just practicing, you know?

“I should have been with you today,” Castiel mused aloud.  “It was our ‘coming out’ day.  I should have been by your side, even if it was just at work.  I know you refused the bodyguard, but I wouldn’t have let you refuse me.”

“Heh, you can be stubborn like that,” Dean admitted, and Castiel pulled away, grabbing his hips and smirking.

A smirk like that meant nothing good.

“At least it’s the weekend.  We don’t have to leave unless we want to.  And I,” he hooked a finger through the belt loop of Dean’s dress pants, “have a present for you.”

“What kind of-” he was interrupted as Cas fiercely tugged, and he grew more nervous the closer they got to the bedroom.  “This isn’t something weird and kinky is it, because I-”

The words died on his tongue, because on the bed, laid out, was an elegant, smart and perfectly tailored tuxedo.  It wasn’t over the top, it wasn’t something that made a statement - as Cas sometimes did on the red carpet - it was classy, something that Dean greatly appreciated and could probably never afford, he realized-

“Cas, you didn’t have to, I-” he stumbled over his words.  “This is _too much_ , it’s-”

The man looked damn proud of himself and gestured to the outfit, that was absolutely complete with shoes, socks, hell - even fuckin’ cufflinks!

“Why don’t you try it on, first?”  Castiel said with a wink, “I’ll even give you some privacy.”

He exited and shut the door behind him, leaving Dean to gape once he read the designer name on the jacket.  Maybe he ripped his clothes off, just to get a taste of how the other side lived.  He’d probably order Cas to send it back, but at the same time, Dean wanted to feel what true luxury was like.  He may never have a chance to again, as he pulled on the tux piece by piece - well, shit, it even had a waistcoat!

The thing that surprised him the most, he realized when he looked in Cas’ full-length mirror, tying the bowtie, was how _tailored_ it was.  The inseams were perfect, it accented his muscle, hid any flaw and his ass looked phenomenal.  These things were taken care of by a seamstress or tailor, how on Earth had he-

There was a knock on the door, and Dean called back, “Come in.”

Even though he heard the door open, Cas didn’t really enter.  Dean was still finicky with the bowtie, and glanced back to see that Castiel was frozen in the doorway, jaw dropped and his eyes downright hungry, like he wanted to eat Dean for dinner.  He pursed his lips together and only took a few strides into the room, like he didn’t trust himself.

Then, without thinking, Castiel blurted, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re a vision.”

Dean rolled his eyes, he always hated compliments because he didn’t know how to respond, and tried to look away.  “Not me, Cas, it’s the tuxedo, trust me.”

“Oh, no, trust _me_.  You look gorgeous.  Everyone at the Oscars is going to be jealous with you on my arm.  I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you, make sure no one tries anything, because you’re all mine.”

And there he went with those words that made Dean’s heart skip a beat.  He had to come up with something!  Something to save face!

“Oh yeah?”  Dean countered right back, “When did I go from a boyfriend to a possession?”

“Anyone with eyes would want you.  I just get to have you.”  He came up behind Dean to fix the damn tie he was still struggling with.  His nose grazed Dean’s ear in the process and he said, “I knew you’d look amazing in it.  I simply wasn’t prepared for how amazing.”

“You need to stop that, you don’t need to romance me,” Dean tried to emphasize, because he knew he was going to fall for all of it.  Hard.  “I don’t know if I can accept this, Cas.”  He turned around to face him once the bowtie was fixed.  “This had to cost, God, I don’t even want to know!  And I-”

“Hush.  It’s not like I can’t afford it.  Let me spoil you a little.  You’re saving my career, remember,” he winked, and that was something Dean couldn’t argue with.

The next thing Dean was riled up about was, “How the _hell_ did you get my measurements?  I mean, sure, I’ve got some clothes laying around, but that’s a matter of mediums and larges.  This is, like, perfect.  Down to the inch.”

A smile played across Cas’ face and he chuckled.  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Uh,” Dean froze, because he had no idea why he wouldn’t?  “Yeah?”

“This was my pet project today at the tailor’s,” Castiel stepped closer once more and cupped the side of Dean’s face, pronouncing in that rich, husky voice, “Let’s just say I have a very, _very_ good memory.  I’ve touched every inch of your body, Dean.  I know the bend of your legs, the pure muscle of your arms, the broadness of your chest, your shoulders.  Not to mention the perfect curve of your ass, and-”

“Woah, okay!  I’ve got it!” Dean was practically fuchsia and had to duck his head.  This never happened, all this goddamn blushing, not before Cas, and he felt like a little girl!  He was a step away from covering his ears, too, but Cas had stopped, like he’d asked.  Except, there was a hand under his chin, directing his attention back up, even though he hated it.

“I gave you the option,” Castiel said with nothing but haughty arrogance.  “You chose, and-”

“I didn’t know that’s where it was going!” Dean threw his arms up in the air, but then remembered he didn’t want to do anything that would potentially damage the tuxedo.  “You’re…you-!”

“I’m?” Cas prompted, looking too damn alluring and sexy for his own good.

It always left Dean flailing and awkward and all he came up with was, “I need to change and hang this up.”

“Do you need help?” he purred back.

With a heavy eye roll, Dean countered, “Think I’ve got it handled.”

“Ah, but the bowtie tells a different story,” and he closed in, untying it in the strangest seductive way possible.

Maybe it was because Dean could practically feel Cas’ body heat, maybe it was because there was this unsaid standing invitation (he supposed - he didn’t know for sure) and ever since he had walked through those doors, Castiel had been on him.  Like everything was real - fallen head over heels, heart-eyed and completely taken with his lover.  And he had yet to change his persona back to the asshole, druggie actor that Dean knew.

Wait.

In one swift move, Dean grabbed Cas’ face and looked into his eyes.  They weren’t bloodshot.  They were dilating properly.  They weren’t glazed over in any way.  He was simply looking confused.

“Holy shit,” Dean laughed, “You’re really sober, aren’t you?”

Almost offended, Cas, for the first time, pulled away from Dean.  “Yes, I am.  I recall that was one of the agreements of our arrangement.  I intended to follow through.  While it’s a bit of a battle, I’m-"

Dean thought fuck it.  This was actual, real progress on a personal level.

He surged forward and kissed Cas on his own terms - without ‘practice‘ without the courage brought about by being drunk.  He kissed him just because he wanted to, dammit.  It was enough to make Castiel stagger in his step one second, but wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and lick into his mouth the next.  

It was nothing like the kiss they shared on the porch, because there were no cameras.  This was just the two of them.

After a few more glorious moments of kissing for the sake of kissing, Dean pulled away and stared at a rather surprised Castiel.    
  
“Thank you,” was one of the only things Dean could think of.  “For trying, for working with me.  You know, you really _would_ be a great boyfriend.  You’re more humble, caring and thoughtful than I’d originally thought.”

Dean backed away, the kind words seemed to daze Cas more than the kiss.  “I’m saying sorry for anything I’d held against you in the past,” Dean further explained, slowly removing the waistcoat.  “Should I change into pajamas, or did you want to do something?”

While he fully expected an innuendo, Castiel took the higher road with a grin and said, “Get comfortable.  I’ll grab the delivery menus and we’ll tuck in - I know today was tough on you.  Tomorrow, we’ll go shopping together.  Then we’ve got the big night.”  As he lingered in the doorway, he called to Dean, “I’m quite happy the tuxedo fit so well,” and disappeared.

Well, this was a new turn of events.  Something that Dean would eagerly work with.  Except, once more, the points continued to add up in this stupid list of reasons as to why Castiel was so attractive, and it wasn’t limited to physical attraction anymore either.  Everything about him was...  The tally had already reached double-digits and was officially moving into incredibly dangerous territory.

Except, the kicker behind all of this was this ‘crush‘ came with a unique and rather mind-blowing scenario…Dean was _able_ to hold him, to kiss him, hell - to have sex with him whenever he wanted to.  That kind of situation, the chance to actually _be_ with the one you pined after, came once in a blue moon.  Maybe even less than that.  Still, Dean worried.  If he took advantage of any of those things, who knew how long it would be until he was in over his head?

He needed to stay afloat.  Castiel was a client.  He was an actor.  He was playing a role.  Dean needed to keep that mantra on repeat if he wanted to guard his heart.

\----------------------------

After their interaction, Cas was strangely cordial.

They had their usual evening on the couch with delivery, jokes were minimal but Dean could feel eyes on him, more often than not.  Maybe his own bold move put the ball in his court?  He wasn’t sure.  But by the time they went to bed…they fell asleep spooning, rather than just waking up that way.

It was inevitable in the morning, so why pretend otherwise and deprive themselves, right?

The next afternoon, Castiel taught Dean the fine art of flying under the radar and going incognito.  Being out with Cas clad in hats, sunglasses and hoodies was actually pretty fun.  Randomly holding hands and stealing kisses when a photog second-guessed who they were was a bonus.  It was kind of adorable.

But the most adorable thing was the actor’s confusion over half the ingredients Dean tossed into the cart.

He’d ask things like, “Wait, why is _that_ in my lasagna?” or “How the hell do you even pronounce this word?” almost baffled at the random seasonings that went into dishes.  Dean would humor him and tease him, even though he remembered that home cooking and family was a sore subject, so he kept it light.

Dean even went as far as to wrap his arm around Cas’ shoulders, using his height to his advantage, from time to time.  Or kiss his cheek.  Whatever impulse he had, because they were in public, he would give into them without a care in the world.  It wasn’t like when he had to hold back at home.  Which was ironic, because most couples worked the opposite way.

This was fun.  Dean was almost mournful about their adventure coming to a halt when they were in the checkout line.

The cashier kept stealing glances at both of them, with a question on the tip of her tongue.  It wasn’t until Cas pulled out his credit card that she gleeful announced under her breath, “I knew it!” and ran the card.

The couple looked between one another as the bags were ready to take off with, and (naturally) Cas loved to poke any sleeping dragons with, “Knew what, exactly?” as he signed his signature on the touch screen.

“You guys coming out?  It was _so brave,_ especially after being a notorious playboy.  That was…I can’t explain it, but it gave _me_ hope.”  The girl practically chirped.  “Like, no one understands what being bisexual really is.  You’re either with a girl and a lesbian, or with a guy and you’re straight.  But you’re proof that bisexuals are real, now we have representation, Mr. Novak, and mainstream media is picking that up, you know?  So thank you.”

She turned to Dean and smiled a little more softly, “And thank _you_ for being confident enough to keep up with him.  I know it’d be difficult, coming out into the world of lights, cameras and rumors.  But I can tell.  You two really love each other.”  She handed a flabbergasted Cas his receipt.  “Have a great day!”

“Um, yes, you too.  And I’m glad that we, uh, could reach out and help young youth like you.”  Castiel had never, ever been one to flub words, he was a smooth talker with a silver tongue, but this caught him off guard.

By the time they made it to the parking lot, there was a small gathering of photags and the media, but nothing they couldn’t handle.  In fact, Dean loaded the car while Cas dealt with them with a smile.  He handled them much easier than he had the young girl inside the store.  It actually made Dean laugh when he returned the cart.

Of course, one of them followed him, and asked him, “How does the lime light feel, after working in the shadows for so long, Mr. Smith?”

Dean shook his head and admitted, “Jarring.  But as long as Cas is here, I’m all right.  Learned my lesson day one, going solo.  It’s easier with him.  Everything’s easier with him,” and when he turned back, Cas was leaning on the car.

They’d taken the old vintage one Dean had an affinity for, and Cas asked, “You wanna drive or-”

“Gimme those keys!” Dean reached out, and caught them right after Cas tossed them on over.

The rest of the evening was easy.

Cas moaned inappropriately around Dean’s home-cooked dinner, and it (per usual) went right to Dean’s dick.  But this time, he had the guts to say, “Do you _have_ to do that?”

“Do what?” he blinked in faux innocence.  “Appreciate this delicious finery?  Trust me, Dean.  If you’d been deprived as long as I, and were dating a man who not only knew his way around the kitchen, but could cook like _this_?  You’d return the favor in spades.  Probably in sexual favors, if you’d let me.”

That actually made Dean bark out a laugh, it caught him off guard.  “Sexual favors for cooking, huh?  Yeah, I’d call _both_ of us deprived.”

After a few more bites, Cas didn’t even bother looking at Dean when he said, “We can fix that, you know.  Us both being deprived in the latter, you know.”

However, that was when the train slammed to a stop in Dean’s mind.  When the fantasy was gone.  Up until now, everything smelled like roses because it felt like an honest relationship.  But he had to remember the cashier.  The one who’d called Cas a ‘playboy.’  Because he hadn’t chosen to leave that lifestyle behind for a boyfriend, the company had decided _for him._

None of this was something that Castiel would chose on his own.  He wouldn’t chose monogamy.  He wouldn’t chose romance.  He…wouldn’t chose Dean.  That kind of stung.  Sure, last night seemed to be something special, but looking back on it sober?  What if Cas was just saying the right word?  Even though Dean prayed he wasn’t.

This was all a setup, and even though Dean had allowed himself to play in the land of make-believe, he had to remember that Cas was an actor, a damn good one, and he could be fooling everyone.  Including Dean.  When he said the words, “We’re both deprived,” the word ‘both’ stood out, even though he they tabled anything until later.

Maybe he realized that had been a huge mistake.

Maybe Cas’ blue balls proved to be too much, and he wasn’t even too worried about the romancing part anymore.  He didn’t need Dean, he needed sex; and Dean was here.  Dean hadn’t been sexually active in, God, was it years at this point?  He wasn’t even sure.  What had happened when they’d gotten drunk with their stupid game of Truth or Dare, it was…so overwhelming.

Now that he was thinking about it sober, it was daunting.  But, dammit, he _still_ wanted it.  But only if Cas wanted _him_ , if he took his words at face value, or not.  This was so friggin complicated.

He continued eating his dinner in silence, because everything just knocked him on his ass.

Well, reality did.

Fuck that.

“Dean.  Are you okay?” Cas asked, and there was too much worry, too much damn sympathy behind his voice.  “I’m not taking back my sexual favors offer, but I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Don’t worry.  You don’t need to impress me.  It’s just us, no one is watching.”  He tried to appear unphased, but it sounded strained, even to his own ears.  “Hell, if you’re so deprived, as long as you were extremely careful and it was someone you trust, feel free.  I don’t want you to resent me, or something, or-”

“Where is this coming from?  Did you hit your head today?” Cas swiftly interrupted him.  “ _Why_ would I resent you?  I’m not attempting to impress you - in case you haven’t noticed, this is how I _usually_ act sober.  Which, all right, being sober may be to impress you - but now I’m getting mixed signals.  Would you be happier if I popped a few pills?”

Castiel transformed being offended into a challenge, into a thrown gauntlet, and Dean knew he’d rocked the boat.  Dammit.

“Cas, I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?”  He raised an eyebrow and his voice was coated in ice.

Shit, he had kicked a hornet’s nest.

Dean set the remnants of his dinner on the table, appetite gone and doubled over in defeat.  “I just…this is confusing, okay?  I don’t know _when_ you’re genuine, when you’re acting, if you feel like you’re on probation, if you’re miserable, if I’m yer damn probation _officer_ , if you’re just aching for this to be over, if I’m the only piece of meat around and so you flirt, or if that’s just your natural state, if you-”

“Stop.  Right there.”  It was almost shouted out.  “I’ll let you go on about all that other bullshit, but I’m not about to hear you speak badly about yourself, as I’ve said before.  Why is it so damn difficult for you to understand your worth?  You, Dean Smith, are not a piece of meat.  I am not miserable or counting down the days.  I assumed everything was alright, but apparently, something is wrong with you.  Did we go too far too soon?  Could we speak about that?”

As if Dean couldn’t be thrown for another loop - oh, look! - there it was.

He blinked openly and scoffed, “I don’t know.  And I don’t know how to read you.  I don’t know what to think about how you…approach me.  I don’t know if it’s for fun, because you can or-” he couldn’t say it, so he filled in “because I’m the last train outta town,” instead.

“Do you enjoy our time together?” Castiel asked in his straightforward way.

Dean knew he was being led, “Yeah.  Much more than I thought.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he emphasized and scooted in closer, mimicking Dean’s move of setting down his finishing dinner.  “Maybe you set out to _hate me_.  And you don’t hate me.  So now, a man of absolute control and order - such as yourself - doesn’t understand how to regain control of the situation.”

“I…” Okay, so maybe between the crush thing and the control issue, he was right.  “I do feel out of control.  And I hate it.  But not _you_.”

“Just let it happen, it’s not horrible, it’s not scary, just…feel,” Castiel tried to urge and traced a finger along Dean’s jaw line.  “I’d press you further.  I’d continue to push and push until you broke and we could _finally_ get past your bullshit, but...we have our event tomorrow.  I don’t want to risk it.”

“Oh, really?” Dean was unimpressed, “You were gonna break me?  Make me cry, or something?”

“On the contrary,” Cas gave him his space back, taking the two bowls and standing up.  “I was going to get you to admit what it was you wanted.  Whether it was me to fuck off, or me to fuck you.  Either way, with your true colors showing, you wouldn’t have to hide anymore and it would feel absolutely liberating.  For us both.”

Castiel paused and stared at Dean for a moment, “I hope there’s no resentment.  I thought we’d been doing so well.  Better than well, actually.  What I thought was…never mind.  Now I, myself, am quite confused.”

And he was right.  Dean cursed himself, because out of his passive-aggressive cheap-shots he’d taken two steps back.  Cas was right, they _were_ doing awesome.  Too awesome.  And that’s why Dean freaked out.  He wasn’t used to good things, so he threw a wrench in, one that Cas actually identified and grabbed with both hands to get rid of before it could destroy them.

He wasn’t letting Dean ruin the machine, even though he wasn’t positive what was going on in Dean’s head.  He just knew that there was a great-big- _something_.  Dean needed to prove to him he wasn’t going to mess this up, that he was better than this, and he could play ball.  He couldn’t sit on the bench, moping, anymore tonight.

No way in hell, it was time to make a move.

He went into the adjoining bathroom and brushed his teeth, giving himself a once over and a mental pep-talk, because tonight _was_ going to work.  

He’d stood up in the past, caught Cas off guard and each time he did so - it was fantastic.  In fact, it was pretty damn addicting.  But since Cas was constantly in the driver’s seat, he had countless more ‘one-ups’ on Dean than the other way around.

It was time to change that.  He needed to, but more than anything, once the idea was locked in his head…he _wanted to_.  If Cas was telling the truth, if the words he said were honest?  Not only would that help Dean’s apparently fragile ego, but the reaction would be so worth it.

He laid in wait, hearing the back and forth shuffling of Cas’ feet.  Yep - he was on the hunt, looking around, but there was no Dean to be found.

The shuffling was distant, but then something more unexpected happened.

“Hey, Charlie.  How are you doing?”

Cas was…making a phone call?  To _Charlie_?  One that he didn’t think Dean could hear?  That made him sit up and zone in.

“That’s good news about the media outlets.  Uh-huh.  Yeah, tomorrow should go off without a hitch.”

Okay, this was business.  Maybe it didn’t matter if Dean listened in or not.    
  
Until it did _._

“May I ask you something more…personal?  No, nothing like-  It’s about Dean.”

That had him perked up like a goddamn prairie dog, on high alert.

“I believe I care for him more than I should, which is my fault, but he’s taking any of my advances as insincerity or, worse.  He’s making quite drastic accusations, about myself and my old life, and I don’t know how to proceed.”  His voice was pensive and those words made Dean lock up.

Holy hell.  He _wasn’t_ in this alone.  Cas had…feeling for him?  This was real life, he pinched himself to be sure, and here he’d gone and treated him like the trash the paparazzi previously painted him as.  When Dean knew better, because he was already trying to defend his own damn heart that was awake and longing.

“You honestly believe that?  I can try.  I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.  It’s very…frustrating.  He’s extremely back and forth and I’m getting mixed signals.  …That’s a _good_ thing?   _How_ is that a good thing?”

Oh, shit.  Charlie was giving away all of his secrets!  Dammit!  If anyone knew him better than he knew himself, it was Charlie.  Jo was a close runner up, but she wasn’t the danger - the ginger was.

“Oh - interesting.  Wow.  I’ll take all of this into account.  You really think I should?  What if-” he cleared his throat and, with more determination, asserted, “All right.  Yes, I’ll keep you informed.  Thank you, Charlie, have a good night.”

Well, shit.  Now Dean had to up his game even more.  Who knew what Charlie had said, what bullshit she’d let fly and what Castiel now knew about him?!  This is downright dangerous territory, as far as he was concerned, when it came to his friend running her mouth!  But it gave him a new drive, a new tenacity to pull this off…

“Dean!” Cas called out, some honest worry in his voice, “Dean, where are you?”

“Getting ready for bed,” he replied casually, and heard the direction of Cas’ footsteps change, on a dime.

The lights were off, Dean’s eyes already having adjusted, so when Cas walked through the threshold he could barely see anything.  He asked, “Are you upset with me?  I admit I can be abrasive from time to time.”

“Nah, I thought about it.  You know, what you said about my true colors?  Kind of decided whether I want you to fuck off or fuck me,” Dean said it plainly, and pulled on the cord for the bedside lamp.

Although it only cast a dim light into the room, it did nothing to hide the fact that Dean was completely naked.  He didn’t have a single scrap of clothing, all spread out and leaning on his elbow, miles of unobstructed skin.  In the middle of Cas’ bed.  

Something so small shouldn’t have riled Castiel up like it did, but in an instant, he was salivating, hard, and trying his damnedest not to pounce.

Instead, he attempted speech, though it was the most difficult thing he could muster up.  “How did you arrive at this conclusion?”  His fingers were twitching, _aching_ to touch.

“I realized I was taking my insecurities out on you.  Which was a douchebag move.  We have been moving forward, you’re right, and I think we should make up for what I screwed up.”  Dean licked his lips because Cas was a wreck, breathing heavy shifting between his feet, fists clenched, trying not to move.  “Oh, and we’re both deprived, right?  We already drunkenly denied ourselves, and, God, did _that_ one hurt.”

“D-Dean,” Cas’ predatory gaze took in every inch of skin, every part of Dean Smith that was visible under the dim light and he was tied up in a catch twenty-two.  “You don’t have to p-prove anything to me.  You don’t have to-”

“Did I misread some signals?  I thought you said you were an open invitation,” Dean raised an eyebrow and rolled to his stomach, his cock thickening under the scrutiny and he wanted _to_ tease, not _be_ teased - not yet.  “Did you change your mind?  Was I such an asshat that you don’t want me anymore?  Because you used to, if I didn't make that up,” it was sheer defiance.

“Fuck, no.  You have no idea how badly I want you,” his hand dropped to the hefty bulge between his legs, “I need to know _why_ you’re doing this.  I-I don’t…you can’t regret this later.  I don’t want to ruin anything between us, Dean.  Which was the same reason we stopped before.”

“The only thing that’s gonna ruin anything is you not ripping those clothes off and using this gigantic bed for something other than cuddling and making out,” he couldn’t control the way his voice lowered in pitch, it was nothing but seduction aimed at the man in front of him.

Oh, the ball was in Cas’ court right now.  His self-control was damn impressive, but how long could he hold out before he broke?  He was trembling, sweating and hungry.  Dean’s grin was widening by the moment, because there was no way he’d be able to hold back much longer…

Castiel visibly gulped, but then in the next moment, he was ripping off every layer that he had on, fabric was sent flying all over the room.  And Dean was enjoying the show.  The way his muscles flexed as he forcefully tugged off a shoe while his shirt was gone, the want and craving for Dean in his eyes, and the race to have him.

Although, Dean hadn’t thought that far ahead, it was a ‘make it up as we moved along’ kind of thing.

There wasn’t even liquor involved this time, but knowing he had the upper hand gave him confidence, and once Castiel was finally naked in front of him, he took in the glorious image through sober eyes and groaned, “God, you’re so damn sexy-”

“I’ve got nothing on you,” his chest was heaving and he reached down to stroke his cock as he asked one final time, “Sure you want this?  All of it?”

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything,” Castiel blurted it like a prayer.

“Then take,” Dean ordered, and rolled back around, showing how hard and turned on he was by a mere strip show.

When Cas moved, it was like a wild animal.  He was fierce and manipulated Dean’s body with a forceful grip into exactly where he wanted him.  And Dean didn’t mind being manhandled at all - in fact, it felt nice to willingly give away control, to put _trust_ into someone and just…let go.

Even though the first impact happened to be Cas needing to touch, needing to feel if Dean was even real, the next thing on his agenda was sealing their mouths together.  It was actually surprising, because of how pent-up Cas had to have been, the first thing he did…was kiss Dean?  He could do that any day, at any time, but these…well, these were _different_.

They were hot, they were full of something desperate, and when Cas aligned their cocks and ground down, Dean almost yelped.  He hadn’t felt the touch of another besides Cas and their small, playful roll in the sheets in so long.  Now, with this new determination, it was like every place Cas touched him was electric, it was shocking and arousing at the same time.  And he wanted more.  

He refused to stop like they’d chosen before.  Dean Smith actually craved someone, he couldn’t help it, and he was going to show Cas.

Dean grappled for Cas’ back, as they set a rhythm of their hips, but he needed to be closer, touching on every surface.  Even though he had no problem when Cas mouthed at the hinge of his jaw and sucked down his neck.  Right at the base of his throat, he left a particularly rough set of teeth in the wake of a raised bruise that was colored already.

He had to do it: Dean called him out.  “You really are possessive, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never been...” Castiel admitted with a laugh, lifting himself enough to loom over Dean.  “Until you.  I want you all for myself.  I don’t want anyone even thinking they have a chance with you, because you belong to me.”  He grazed a finger over the raised patch of skin that sent shivers down Dean’s spine.  “I’d leave my mark on you from head to toe, if I could.”

“Jesus, Cas, you can’t-” he started to say, but then stopped when he hauled him back in and kissed him for all he was worth.  He moaned into Cas’ mouth, “So you want me to be yours, huh?”

“More than anything,” he returned, pulling away this time to rake his nails down Dean’s sides and teasing down his torso.

Castiel already knew that Dean’s nipples were sensitive, so he spent just enough time, sucking and rolling them between his teeth to make the man all but shout out.  But the further south he got, this was new territory.

He mouthed at Dean’s hip bones and those beautiful, cut sex lines, making him buck off the bed.  Cas also spread his legs to get the full show in the barest of light in the room, because if he got a chance like this?  No way in hell he wasn’t going to take advantage of every second.

Dean was whimpering from lack of touch, his cock covered in precum, just waiting to be sucked.  Not to mention the way he arched and wantonly swayed his hips, it was almost like Dean was begging to be fucked, even more.  Those words had passed his lips, hadn’t they?

A mischievous smirk crossed Cas’ face, because he knew damn well they had.  But now, he needed confirmation, because he was about to explode if he didn’t get release of his own.  Dean had already driven him to the edge, he was so mesmerizing.

“Tell me what you want, Dean,” Cas asked, trying to tone down his absolute manic need to a comforting desire or at least mask how goddamn desperate he was.  “When you stripped naked, when you laid yourself down in my bed like a fucking _feast_ , what were you after?”

“You, Cas,” Dean groaned when he added, “Wanted to see if you’d even want me, first.  The rest, I was gonna play by ear.”

It astounded him that Dean thought, in a _million years_ , that Cas hadn’t gotten random boners from just being in the same room as him.  That he didn’t find his intellect alluring.  That he didn’t find the way he’d get flustered when Castiel caught him off guard the most endearing thing in the universe.

With a scoff, Castiel pointed out, “Now you know different.  Listen to your body, Dean.  What does it ache for?  Tell me, I’ll give you anything you want.  I want to give you everything.”

The words went right to Dean’s dick, more precum dribbling from the slit and down the length.  It made Cas’ mouth dry and he _needed_ to taste - he couldn’t help himself or hold back anymore.  He sucked the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth, making the man explode with a curse of surprise and a moan of satisfaction.  Castiel couldn’t stop there, he had to lick the length until it was clean, needing to taste more of him.

Hell, if this was just a round of blowjobs, he’d be happy.  The noises Dean made were music to his ears and-

“D-Do you have condoms and lube?” Dean asked in the next breath and Castiel was _damn_ surprised.  Even more surprised when Mr. OCD I’m-always-in-control-Dean-Smith added, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh _God-_ ” Cas choked out and never had he moved faster to one of the lower drawers in his night stand.  He found the lube, easy, and he knew that he had condoms.  Even though he’d been checked right before this whole charade-turned-hopefully-romance, he didn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable bringing that topic up for their first time.  

Even though one day, it would be a dream to bareback and cum inside his ass with no obstructions…

He finally found the condoms and ripped one off right before he began to slick his fingers up.  Cas noticed Dean was watching him, lust-glazed over in his eyes but a bit of apprehension.  He slowly circled the rim of Dean’s tight hole before sliding in the first finger and receiving an affirmative hum.

Since Dean was focused on him anyways, he leaned back up and stole a kiss, waiting for the first finger to slide in and out without difficulty before he added the second.

In-between kisses, Castiel had to ask, “Are you nervous?” and brushed the sweat-matted hair from his forehead with his free hand.  “We can stop at any time-”

“No, I want this, it’s just…” he looked away before he explained, “It’s been so long, you know?  Since I’ve been with someone.  My standards are high, I don’t do one night stands and…” Dean actually laughed, “You’re kindaimpressive, Cas.”

He joined in the laughter, slowly working him open, twisting and scissoring, when he promised, “I’ll make sure you’re ready.  The last thing I want is to hurt you.  I want this to be good, babe.  I want you to love every second of it.  So much that you beg me for more and more every time you come home from work.”  He ducked to the suck and nibbled a fresh mark.

Dean gasped in surprise, because between the hickey and Cas’ fingers finding his sweet spot, it was a sensory overload.  “Cas!  Holy shit-”

He continued to stroke it, and then pushed in a third finger while Dean was writhing and groaning.  He grabbed Cas’ cheeks and pressed their foreheads together, getting lost in the moment when he said, “You better be telling the truth, you little shit.”

“Which truth?”  Castiel was caught up, enraptured in watching the way Dean moved, covered in glistening sweat underneath him.  God, he needed to be one with him, his own dick pulsed, needing to be inside him, he-

“About me begging for more when I come back from work,” Dean tipped his chin back up and caught wild blue eyes.  “’Cause I told you, I don’t do one night stands.  I hope this…is _more_.”

“I promise this is more.”  Castiel was radiating honesty, and sealed their lips together, adding a fourth finger just to be safe.

This one had Dean gasping, but he didn’t seem to be in pain just overwhelmed from the stretch.  It made sense, after all, he’d been out of the game so long he was practically virgin-tight once again.  Which absolutely thrilled Castiel, that Dean would make such a great exception for him.  He was bound and determined to make it worth it, and then some.

“Are you ready, love?” the nickname just slipped out, Dean was already tearing the condom open and rolling it down his cock.  Cas grinned as he slathered it in lube and appraised, “So good, Dean.  So fucking perfect.  May I fuck you just like this?  So I can kiss you?”

“Yeah, Cas, c’mon,” Dean swiveled his hips, begging, aching for his cock, and when he felt the head lining up with his stretched hole, he tried to remember to breath.

The anticipation was killing him.

Still, as carnal and needy as Cas was, he was a gentle lover when it came to things that could potentially cause a rift in the process.  The way he slid in was careful, calculated and he watched every expression on Dean’s face to make sure it wasn’t too much or, on the other hand, not enough.

When he bottomed out, the strangest thing happened.

Castiel felt as though his self-control was compromised.  Usually, he could hold back.  He could fuck for hours, after all - he _was_ famous for his orgies.  But being inside Dean?  He blamed these emotions coupled with the squeeze around his cock, the body grinding against him and the fearless, enamored expression in Dean’s eyes.

Then the order, “Move, Cas!” and when he did, Dean hummed happily and quipped, “Show me you know how to use that huge cock.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” he pecked a kiss on Dean’s lips before he started plunging in and out, punching the air from Dean’s lungs as well as a creative mix of praise and curses.

There were heels digging into his back, dragging him in impossibly further and Castiel made a split-second choice.  He ducked downward and folded Dean in half, hooking his knees over his shoulders.  

Instantly, Dean locked his ankles behind his head and grinned, because he was happy.  This, right here, made him happy.  Like not merelya boyfriend would, but a committed, real love would.

And Castiel couldn’t help but pretend or maybe even think in his head, optimistically, what if that really did happen?  What if _they_ happened?

He’d be able to drop forward, kiss the hell out of this man he was slowly falling in love with, have him whenever he’d allow, the home-made cooking, the only person who could stand up to him, and so many other things.

Now that he thought about Dean and everything that came with him, Cas wanted it, wanted a _them_.  And he wanted it all something awful.

“Dean,” he moaned out, finding his sweet spot and sending the man spiraling, “Let’s forget an end date.  If they give us one.  Never want this to stop.  I’ll become better for you, I promise I will.”

Dean’s eyes flew open, but he couldn’t respond because of the tenacity of thrusts against his prostate.  It appeared like Castiel wanted to so, so badly, but the next thing he knew, he was cradling the back of Cas’ head and kissing the living fuck out of him.  He covered their bodies in his release, inspired by the man‘s words and actions.

The prospect of having Dean, of this continuing, of the future - that was what set Castiel off and he was moaning out Dean’s name as his rocking hips roughly punctuated the words.  It was glorious, one of the best orgasms he’d had in his entire life.  And it took a damn long time for him to clean up, just because he didn’t want to move from where he was cradled against Dean’s chest.

But he did.  He tied off the condom, tossed it, and cleaned himself and Dean with a warm wash cloth.

When they curled up together, not bothering with any clothes, they continued to caress each other and share random kisses.  Even though it was quiet.

Finally, though, Dean spoke up.

“No end date, huh?”  His voice was cautious, “Was that…for real?  Or just a heat of the moment kind of thing?”

Castiel had to go through with it, he had to own it without backtracking.  “I meant it.  I’d like to make this work.  I never thought I’d end up…falling for you.  I’d always been intrigued, always drawn to you and your entire little neat box and picture-perfect life.  But knowing you.  It’s different.  And I’d be a fool to let you go, so I figured I’d try.  Try to keep you, if you’d allow it.”

Dean snuggled in closer, and he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.  No, never in his wildest dreams.

“I’m in,” he confirmed and grinned up at the actor.  “We’ll, like, set some ground rules or whatever.  I know I have things to work on, too.  Tomorrow…well, I’ll need prep.  But tonight, man.  It was awesome.”

“I only have you to thank.  You’re quite sneaky, you know?” Castiel clucked his tongue.  “That was the very last thing I had been expecting.”

“I know,” he laughed, completely delighted.  “I wanted to see how you handled it.”

“Did I do well?”

“Friggin’ aces.”

“Heh, good.  That’s very good to hear,” he kissed Dean’s brow and admitted, “We should go to sleep.  Big day tomorrow.”

“Don’t I know it.  Sorry in advance if I screw up.”  Dean grumbled because he really was anxious.  God, the last thing he needed was a panic-attack on the red carpet.

“I have all the faith in you, Dean.  Don’t worry.  The world already loves you, you can do no wrong.”  He squeezed him gently.  “I’ll give you pointers on anything that makes you nervous, if you need them.”

“Thank you, Cas.  We’ll make it out alive.”  He shook his head at the pure lunacy he’d gotten himself into.  “G’night.”

“Sweet dreams, Dean.”


	5. Chapter Four

Getting ready for the Oscars was not what Dean had expected at all - not even remotely.  It was even more chaotic than being outside by himself with the paparazzi.

Dean should have known better, being Castiel’s damn publicist!  The actor had a _team_ for these events - one that stormed the damn house and turned it into a circus!

Hair and makeup arrived at noon, sharp, and brought their own set-up which consisted of a salon chair, station, mirror and all the tools and products that went into making Castiel ‘camera ready.’  Another team waited in the wings for wardrobe, and then hair and make-up swooped back in to make sure the second team didn’t fuck with their masterpieces and touch-ups!

He watched on as Cas just relaxed back and let them do their jobs, like this was another day at the office.  In actuality, Dean realized this _was_ just another day at Cas’ office.  This was how he prepared for appearances and events, with his hair expertly coiffed into something wild that made him look halfway between I-just-woke-up and I-just-got-hit-by-a-tornado.

In order to create that look, apparently there was fuckin’ round brushing with a blow-dryer, not one but two different kinds of waxy products to make his hair look piece-y or whatever (he heard one of the stylists say that) and hairspray.  A cloud of it.

There was goddamn make-up, too!

When one of the women glanced over to see Dean’s horror as she applied the powder with a brush, she couldn’t help but grin.  “It’s for the pictures, Dean.  It absorbs the light because these cameras pack a helluva punch in the flash department and while chicks go for ’dewy’ and highlighted cheekbones, it’s not really a guy thing.”

“Plus,” she went back with a different color on her pallet, “we get to show off those gorgeous baby blues.”

“You’re too kind, Lisa,” Cas said with a teasing tone.  “Just wait until you see those green eyes, up close and personal.  They’re gorgeous all by themselves.”

“Wait-” Dean realized in terror, “I…” he fumbled with his words.  “No!  I will _not-_ ”

“Yes, you will, honey,” Lisa said with that take no shit attitude.  “You walk the red carpet with my man?  You bet your ass I’m gonna make you look good enough for him.  Sure, you’ve got natural beauty, but it’s not about that.  You’ll look sickly and be the odd man out.”

“You’ll barely notice, Dean,” Cas pitched his voice over his shoulder.  “Besides, you wear product in your hair every day.  Think of it as a treat not to have to do it yourself.”

“All done.”  Lisa patted his shoulder and looked at her next victim.  “Come on, Dean.  It’s painless.”

And when Cas stood up and turned around with a raised brow, Dean had to admit from this distance at least, it wasn’t like he was a painted whore.  His features simply looked smoother and a bit more defined.  He squinted, taking in every bit of…everything, because he’d given in and now he had to live in his boyfriend’s world - and this was it.

“Okay.  So long as there’s no lipstick on me, I’m good.”  Dean continued to grumble and curse under his breath as he ambled over to the salon chair and Lisa slung the cape over his body, buttoning it around his neck.

She hummed thoughtfully, taking a quick glance at his hair before she decided, “Let’s part it on the other side, give it more oomph.  You look too corporate-”

“I _am_ corporate!” he protested weakly, Cas slunk around next to the mirror, prime seats to watch the shitshow, and leaned against the wall.  “Whatever.  Do what you want!”

“She always does,” he winked to Lisa and Dean winced when she sprayed him down with a water bottle.

After applying a freakin’ handful of product to his wet hair, she grabbed some other kind of weirdo brush he’d never seen before.  Then, Lisa began drying his hair from one side to the other with enough force to whip his head back and forth, he had to use physical strength to hold it in the middle.  This chick’s grip strength was no joke!

By the time she’d dried it, it was all sticking straight up instead of slicked down flat like Dean styled it.  Yeah, she parted it, but it was on the opposite side and it felt all kinds of wrong.  When she dug her fingers into the paste, Castiel began cackling.

“What’s so funny!?” Dean demanded, his eyes shot up to his maybe-boyfriend.

He couldn’t stop laughing as he said, “You look like a _child_ getting his first haircut!  Dear God, unclench, Dean!  Trust the professional, all right?  I only hire the best!”

“I really, really hate you right now,” he hissed at Cas, “ _Sorry_ I’m a little surprised, being tossed into your life without a warning or a parachute!  Cut me some slack!”

Castiel shook his head wearing a grin, “You’re doing fine.  Just…take some deep breaths and we’ll break into the bourbon before the limo picks us up.  I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes and turned his focus back to the mirror.  It looked like Lisa was finished and…wow.  Okay then, he didn’t _hate_ it.  He stuck his bottom lip out in appreciation and told her, “Not bad.”

“I told you,” she giggled, her back turned, and when she faced him again she was holding the fucking brushes and the makeup.  “It’s sad we’re going to have to cover up your freckles.  Only bummer about this foundation.”

“Oh God, no.”  He closed his eyes tightly, “Wake me up when it’s over.  I can’t watch!”

He heard the pair cackling and casually making fun of him, but Dean was lost in his own thoughts because really…

What had he done to deserve this as his life?  Was this the pinnacle?  Or was this rock bottom?  He couldn’t decide.  But one thing was for sure, he’d never planned in his entire existence to be a dolled up to this degree…hair was one thing, but make-up?!  He’d never tell the girls at the office because he’d never live it down…

\-----------------------

Castiel delivered on the promised bourbon and Dean didn’t hold back on an obnoxiously sloppy kiss for that one.  Not only did they cheers and discuss how the red carpet would go down, once they got in the limo and the driver greeted, “Hello, Mr. Novak, Mr. Smith,” Dean was gobsmacked.

“Good evening, Joshua!” Cas responded with a smile, but when he turned he laughed out loud.

Dean had discovered the bar that came attached inside the limo.  He already had two glasses filled with liquor, one he was extending to Cas with a goofy smile when he announced, “This is _awesome_!” as Cas took the glass.

‘Joshua’ also added, “The rest is under the Grey Goose, third on the right.”

Castiel’s mouth was open to say something, but Dean had the kind of buzz that made him productive, inquisitive, and his curiosity came alive.

However, the actor tossed back the liquor, leaned forward towards the partition and grinned, “Would you believe that I’m clean?  It’s for _this_ guy, over here,” right as Dean found a small bag of coke underneath the vodka bottle and actually froze.  Cas winked back at him and told him, “Just put it back, Dean.”

“Well, I know _I’m_ surprised!”  And the driver’s tone reflected it and mused aloud, “To be honest?  I was expecting this to be some kind of diversion, a publicity stunt but, damn, this is real.”

Dean was still holding Cas’ stare and it melted a little, into something fond but not gooey heart-eyes, just…something nice.

He continued to hold his gaze as he confirmed, “Yeah.  Pretty crazy, right?  You’ve got a view from the inside, you’re my favorite driver.  God, the things you’ve seen!”  Cas laughed aloud, “Bet you’re happy you don’t have to block out what’s going on in back and blast the music.”

“And get my limo detailed every damn time you call,” Joshua added with good humor.  “Nice work, Mr. Smith.  You must be something special.”

“Oh, he is,” Castiel acknowledged, and fell back to sit next to Dean and wrapped his arm around him.  “Refill, bartender?”

“Heh, drinks or shots, sir?” Dean teased, the conversation actually giving him a lot of hope.  More than he was willing to admit because this Joshua guy really was the fly on the wall and his words…they meant something.  Not to mention Cas saying he was clean, and outright refusing one of his favorite pastimes that was sitting _right there_ , just waiting for him.

“Mm,” Cas hummed thoughtfully, “How about drinks?  There’ll be more at the award show, we don’t want to debut you drunk, now, do we?”  He leaned in and kissed Dean’s neck, explaining, “I want everyone to see my charming,” a kiss on the cheek, “dashing,” one on the tip of the nose, “gorgeous and sexy boyfriend.  And I’d love to see their jealousy.”

He finished with a lingering kiss on the lips, his eyes reading ‘all mine’ and Dean was beginning to like it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded with a sigh.  “That’d be terrible publicity - for your _publicist_ boyfriend to be staggering all over the red carpet.  I’d never want to do damage control on myself.  Wow, that was the strangest thing I’d ever thought I’d say,” he frowned and shook his head.  “All right, mixed drinks it is!”

\------------------------

The limo finally glided to the curb and Castiel took a second and asked Dean very carefully, “Are you ready?”

There was a mix of nerves in his stomach, but the alcohol was helping.    
  
More than anything, he knew that Cas wouldn’t let him fall.  The actor was his safety net.  There were countless stories out there about celebrities bringing their mothers, brothers, sisters, children, and if they could handle it?

Dean was a grown-ass man, dammit!

“Yeah,” he blew out through his lips.  “No ditching me at _any_ point, all right?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a quirked grin and kissed him once more.  “Now, let’s get this finished.  After the red carpet is over, it’s decently smooth sailing, all right?  We can do this.”

Cas scooted to the edge of the limo as Joshua opened the door for them, and he clapped his driver on the back.  Instantly, there were flashbulbs going off, the second Castiel reached back in to grab Dean’s hand and help him out.  Dean kept holding on tight as Cas whispered things to him and they headed towards the main photag hotspot.

That was when Dean whispered, “I’m glad I asked you about poses with drunk truth or dare,” as Cas pulled him into one of the various positions he’d described, and they smiled for the paparazzi and magazines, alike.

First came pictures, which Dean admitted - yeah, that wasn’t so bad!  …Until the microphones began to get shoved into his face.  That, right there, was intimidating.  He didn’t want to talk or give interviews, he was fine being arm candy, thank you very much, and while Cas was speaking animatedly and promoting the series he just finished and an upcoming project, Dean was bombarded with the microphones which had the logos of the gossip magazines, Buzzfeed or - there was actually one - that was a legit LGBQT news site.  

All three were up in his face, when one woman took the lead, “So how does your first red carpet feel?”

Dean chuckled, because at least he could answer that one.  “Pretty intense, I’m not gonna lie.  But so long as I’ve got this guy,” he gestured right over his shoulder with his thumb, “I have to say, I feel pretty invincible.”

This woman ‘aww’d, even though he hadn’t meant it like that, and then everything was fuckin’ rapid fire!

“So before, when you were his publicist, you saw all the trouble he’d get into.  Does that ever make you insecure?”

That one surprised Dean because of how invasive it was, like….what the actual hell?    
  
Still, he answered, “Cas is trouble, we can all agree on that.  But he’s kind of awesome.  Anything that makes me uncomfortable, even if it’s something I just say in passing, it’s something he’ll work on.  He surprises me every day, he’s changed and we’re strong together.  Not to mention the whole publicist thing works in my favor, since any scandals go right to my desk before the media catches wind.  But, no, I’m not insecure.”

“So he was still playing up his bad boy image while you were together to hide the fact he was bisexual?”

“Well, you have to admit, even though the world’s a lot more progressive these days, you _still_ run the risk of bigots.  Even in the industry.  And it was something we decided when we first got together, that we would keep it a secret to make sure it didn’t affect his career,” Dean plainly answered, “But now?  It’s a breath of fresh air not to hide it.”

“You guys look so happy.  Like, truly, head over heels.  Have you ever thought about marriage in the future?”  One more asked, like it was the most casual question on her list, but that one actually got to Dean.

Castiel had heard it and swooped in, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and tsk’ing the reporter, “Now, proposing is half the fun!  No spoilers, you guys!  I’ve got a lovely evening to show off my even lovelier date to attend,” and all but whisked Dean away.

Leaning in with a hushed tone, Dean blurted, “Jesus, they have no filter, do they?!”

“None.  Let it roll right off your back.  And remember, you may always answer: no comment.  Then bat those pretty eyelashes and you’re finished,” Castiel deliberately side-eyed him and huskily whispered, “God, you’re gorgeous.  I’ve never felt this kind of luck before.”

“Dammit, stop that!”  He hip-bumped Cas, who lowered his hand from leading to grasping Dean’s as they entered the theater.  “Any other last minute tips?”

“Always appear pleasant.  The cameras pan around at random.  I’ve had trouble with dates in the past and their resting bitch faces.  Lucky for me, you don’t have that problem,” he snickered, and once they were at the front, the ushers led them to their seats to get cozy.

“This will be fun, Dean.  And if you’re not having a good time, let me know,” he stole another kiss.  “I believe I have ways we could make it more...entertaining, all by ourselves.”

“Oh no.  I do _and_ don’t like the sound of that.”  Dean tried to lament, but he couldn’t keep the excited smile off his face, because that’s just how he felt.

Excited.  Downright giddy.  Like things were going to work out, like Cas truly cared about him and everything was going their way.  He never imagined it would work out like this, but it did.  And dammit, Dean wasn’t going to mess it up with his second-guessing and over active brain.  He’d take it for what it was, and revel in the joy and mischief that was his boyfriend.  Who was _real_.  Wow.

\------------------------

There were so many people that Dean had been introduce to, he was in a mild state of shock.  So many actors that he’d admired were looking at him, treating him like their equal.  They said they were happy for Castiel and glad he’d finally found someone and they seemed to approve.  

If there was one thing Dean excelled at, it was making a good impression.  It was part of the business, and it came naturally.  Cas was grabbing them drinks while Dean sat at the table their nameplates were setting and finished a casual conversation with one such actor.  

That was when a woman looked him dead in the eye and marched over.  In ridiculous heels, to boot - Dean had no idea how she did it.

He turned back to the table, assuming she was going to speak with the man he’d just finished chatting up and gave them their space politely.

In a strange turn of events, she plopped down in Cas’ seat and slung an arm on the table, demanding Dean’s attention.

Slowly, he looked over and asked, “Hi, can I help you?” and vaguely recognized her, but he wasn’t sure from where.

“Actually, I was hoping to help _you_ ,” she leaned in, the smell of liquor and cigarettes on her breath.  “This little love story?  Adorable and all.  But one of two things is happening, here.  One, it’s _bullshit_.  Or two, you’re seriously getting played, which makes it _bullshit_.  You’re a wide-eyed civilian and Cas obviously got sick of you, quick - considering he’s been fucking his way through Hollywood.”

“I-uh,” Dean had no idea how to handle this, how to react - so he went with his gut.  “Yeah, that may have been his past but he’s over it.  We’re together and I don’t know if you’re trying to warn me or threaten me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re just a bright-eyed innocent little thing, aren’t you?”  She snorted with a patronizing drawl.  “Sure, you’re pretty.  I’ll give you that.  But _everyone’s_ pretty here.  And Cas appreciates beauty,” she shrugged and added, “he used to appreciate my beauty quite frequently.  Hell, he did less than a week ago.  Cas isn’t who you think he is.  Better to get out now, save-”

“Meg.”  An icy voice came up from behind the woman.  “What, exactly, are you doing in my seat?  I don’t remember introducing the two of you.”

She smiled over her shoulder and stood up, a bit wobbly, “Oh, don’t worry.  I was just helping the kid out.  Giving him some pointers and-”

Castiel’s glare was downright terrifying as he ordered, “Go back to your place, the show is about to begin.  And no one needs your pointers.  Especially not my boyfriend.”

“Hah, _boyfriend_ ,” she tossed her head back and laughed, “you’re a comedian tonight.  Looks like he’s attached, Clarence, let him go before you break his heart.”

He watched her stroll off until she was gone, but Dean kind of felt sick to his stomach.  The words ‘less than a week ago’ echoed in his mind because…when exactly was that?  Was it when they’d already started staying with each other?  Was it when they’d begun getting to know each other and started this game?  Was that something Cas was doing with his afternoons or-?

“Dean,” Cas was right in front of him, trying to get his attention in a soothing way because he’d totally zoned out.  “Don’t listen to whatever bullshit she-”

“The show’s starting.”  His voice was numb, because that’s how he felt.

And Cas…he looked confused and a bit lost.  He reached out to take Dean’s hand under the table, but he recoiled from Castiel’s touch and that wasn’t okay with the actor, not even a little.  He wasn’t going to let whatever she said get to him, so he tried again and refused to let Dean squirm away.  

Dean couldn’t really fight it or make a scene, and they were here on a mission, saving face or whatever, so he let him the second time.  Even though he didn’t really want to.  He made that known by keeping his grip lax, like one of those dead-fish handshakes, he was internally freaking out a little.  He was hurt, and when the host came out on the stage, he could barely focus.

But he had to.  He had to get through this.    
  
He was a professional.  It was for the company.  And it was his _own_ damn _fault_ he was a fucking idiot and had fallen for a notorious playboy in the first place.  It was all on Dean.

\----------------------------

During the commercial breaks when they were able to mingle, Cas turned right around to Dean immediately and leaned in, asking softly, “Are you okay?”

What he saw reflected back was a mask, pure and simple.  And he fucking hated it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  What about you?  You said you liked these things, is it up to your standards?” Dean was trying to make casual conversation and avoid his question altogether.

If there was one thing that Cas had going for him, it was that he was stubborn as hell.  He gripped Dean’s hand hard and pulled him close so no one could hear them.  Even though the man retracted and tried to get away, Cas knew damn well he wasn’t going to make a scene, so he had that going for him, too.

“What did Meg say to you?  What’s going on?” he whispered into Dean’s ear.

“Nothing important,” he countered, then almost growled, “Dude, you’re gonna give me bruises, let up-”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on-”

Dean forcefully pulled away, and flagged down one of the wait staff who was carrying around a tray of drinks.  Cas cursed to himself, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to pull him in again without it looking suspicious.  When Dean snagged two flutes of champagne, he assumed one was for him.

That was, until Dean glanced around, completely drained the first and then sipped the second.  Cas balked at his boyfriend’s move, and this further went to prove that something happened.

“I’ll be getting this out of you one way or another,” he promised with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean shrugged his shoulders, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

But the thing was… _Cas_ cared.  He cared too fucking much.  He wanted to know how he could fix this, how he could make Dean smile again.  Everything had been perfect - almost picture perfect, until Meg Masters had somehow sunk her goddamn nails into Dean.  She said something offensive enough to shake the man, and Cas thought Dean to be…well, unshakeable.

He was thinking about cornering Meg if he couldn’t get anything out of Dean…

The lights in the auditorium flashes, giving the ‘five minute’ signal and he still hadn’t made any headway.  He would have sunk in his chair, frustrated and upset but he had to keep up appearances.  Cas knew he couldn’t pout, they had to get through this and then he'd have time to be with Dean-

...Who just got himself two more glasses of champagne.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Cas leaned over and raised an eyebrow when he asked, “Getting wasted on the job?”

“When in Rome?”  There was a goofy grin on his face, but it still wasn’t sincere just mildly intoxicated.

Shit.  Cas had been looking forward to this night and one bitch had swooped in and ruined it.  His frustration was through the roof but he’d make it.  He had to, because Dean wasn’t simply his fake boyfriend anymore, he was so much more than that.  He was worth more, deserved more, and he was going to get more.

Once again, their focus went right back to the stage as the next couple of presenters entered and read their lines on the monitors.  It was only a matter of time.

\------------------------

“That was fun!” Dean announced as he stumbled into the limo at the end of the night after Cas had done everything in his power to make sure he appeared to be up right on his own.

Oh, but he wasn’t.  Dean was drunk.  Hopefully they hid it well enough that the media didn’t snap any pictures of him tripping over his own feet.  On the bright side, he wasn’t wearing a dress, so there weren’t any possible crotch-shots.  Just a drunken boyfriend while Cas was actually the sober one - for the first time in his career.

He attempted to make a grab at the bourbon that was in the limo the moment he righted himself, but Cas cut him off.

“No, no more drinks for you, darling,” he teased and swatted his hand away from the mini-bar.  “You’re already going to be feeling it in the morning.  Don’t want to make it worse, do you?”

“Well if I’m _already_ going to be feeling it-” Dean made an even more aggressive move, but Cas was faster.

He laughed as Dean almost tumbled to the floor boards and he had to scoop him up, onto his lap.  The man was laying down, looking at the ceiling of the cab and his eyes briefly flickered over to Cas’ and stared him down for a long, lingering moment before he sat back up.  Dean looked as though there was something on the tip of his tongue but he wouldn’t say it.

Cas was going to corner him the second they got home.  He wouldn’t do it in front of the driver, he wanted Dean to be able to speak freely and the place for that would be behind closed doors.  It felt like forever until they were dropped off, and then _another_ forever as Cas supported Dean once more as they got up to the door.

He deposited him on the couch and turned on the lights.

He already knew Dean’s history - the second he was in his PJs was the second he would fall asleep and there was no going back.  So he kept him in his tuxedo a little longer.  Another selfish thing was that Cas enjoyed the view…God, he looked stunning wearing it, it was unbelievable.

Dropping down beside him, Cas cupped Dean’s cheek and demanded his attention.  “All right, Smith.  You’ve put this off too long.  What’s going on?  What’s wrong?  You’re not running away from this.  Something happened with Meg.”

“Yeah, _you_ happened with Meg,” he mumbled under his breath.

It made Cas do a double-take, asking, “What?  What are you-” before he realized what Dean was saying.  “Dean, that was my past.  You know that, you’re my publicist, for fuck’s sake!   You’re the one who told me you’re up all night, tracking me on social media!  Those times are gone, she’d old news, you-”

Dean’s gaze rose challenging when he ordered, “Tell me the last time you were with her.”

“I…” Cas had to think about it, because honestly?  They all kind of blurred together.  “I don’t know, I can’t remem-”

“She said it was a few days ago.  But we’ve been ‘together’ for nearly a week.  We’ve been sharing the same space, I’ve let you sleep in _my bed_ for almost a week, Cas.  Now, the math doesn’t really add up, huh?”

Then it all hit Cas at once.

“Oh, fuck.”  He ran a hand through his hair, making it impossibly more disheveled as he explained, “That was, like, my last hurrah.  Because I knew that I was all in, that I had to be for this to work.  And afterwards, it didn’t even register.  Because everything was _you_ , Dean.  I forgot about everything because you’re the only thing, the _only one_ , who matters to me.”

Cas sighed and crossed his arms, saying, “You didn’t even like me, then.  It was the first-full day, I completely blocked it out.  I’m sorry, I-”

“She could go blabbing to the press.  Hell, _any_ of these chicks could, saying that our ‘relationship’ doesn’t mean shit, that it’s fake or you’re just the same person you’ve always been.  How can we keep this story together when you’re _still_ pulling crap like this?!” Dean finally snapped and shouted at him.

“Because it’s not a story anymore!”

A silence stretched, they were both huffing and puffing as they stared at each other and neither knew what to do.

Dean just shook his head and said, “I’m gonna try to sober up.  Wash the ten pounds’a hair shit and face paint off in the shower,” and abruptly turned away.

Cas watched him go and was at a complete loss.  He didn’t want Dean to be alone right now, not just because he was drunk, but because he was hurt.  And he understood why. 

In retrospect, that was a dick move.  That Cas thought this would be such a struggle that he’d have to get one last good fuck in before it began?  When it had _kind of_ already begun, but the story hadn’t broke quite yet?  He had no idea what to do, how to make this right.

So he wandered to his bedroom and, piece by piece, hung up the tuxedo neatly on the hangers.  He was waiting for Dean to finish with his shower so he could take one, now that he thought about it, at least washing his hair and face sounded nice.

Yet when Dean finished, he came into the room with a towel around his waist, grabbed his pajamas from his drawer and marched out.

While Cas was left in baffled silence, after a second he followed him, thinking he may have gone back into the bathroom, but there was no Dean.

Eventually, he found him curled up on the couch, passed out.

Fuck.

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose, so angry with _himself_ \- but especially with Meg.  Dean didn’t even want to be near him right now.

He looked around for a blanket, and eventually decided to pull the comforter off the bed to cover him with, since he didn’t really have any spares.

God, he prayed things were better in the morning.  Just a little.  That Dean had reacted emotionally because of the alcohol, that he’d forgive him, or something, because Cas couldn’t deal with his anger.  Not when he was falling in love with the man.

He needed to find a way to make it up to him.

\--------------------------------

Neither of them got much sleep.  Whether it was the booze messing with their REM cycle or the fight - their first real fight, that actually had grounds to be legitimate.

From Cas’ end, he was ready to commit to a life of celibacy to save his career, because there was no way in hell he’d figure this perfect man would want him.  Let alone fall into bed with him and have feelings for him.  That was his motivation between the last quick hook-up with Meg, but it had, indeed, happened after they’d agreed to get Cas away from his old life.

From Dean’s end, it felt like a punch in the gut, because he’d already had feelings for Castiel _before_ all this.  He’d already had his crush, which had developed into something more at an alarming rate but the actor couldn’t care less.  He was still sneaking out and finding easy fucks.

And who knew.  Was he continuing this behavior?  After all, Dean had put out a total of once, when Cas was probably used to getting laid on at least a daily basis.

This was all shot to hell, and Dean just wanted to be home, alone, in his apartment.

Instead, he heard footsteps growing closer and the smell of coffee.  It was set on the table in front of him, and Cas decided to sit on the floor in front of the couch instead of taking a seat.  This read loud and clear that he meant business.

“Dean, I know you’re awake,” he whispered softly.  “We need to talk.  I refuse to let this stew.  I refuse to let you think the worst, and I want to fix this.  You’re worth more to me than some kind of misunderstanding.”

“So-” Dean had to clear his sleep-hoarse voice and cough, because it was so dry.  “So it was a misunderstanding that your dick just accidentally penetrated Meg Masters while we had a deal?  A contract?  One that we were drawing up to save your career and I was actively putting in every effort I could to learn about you, your past, make up our story, make it plausible, oh!  And not to mention falling for you, while you were off getting laid?”

“Dean-!” Cas’ voice was urgent, but he wasn’t done.

He sat up to look downward on Cas’ crouching figure and spat out, “That was easy enough, wasn’t it?  Just get your sex fix while I’m at work?  Maybe I was an idiot to think that you’d drop all your bad habits.  Yeah, it’s awesome that you got clean.  I appreciate that.  But sex…I guess it’s another addiction.”  He snorted and rubbed his temples, “I couldn’t give you that like you wanted.  I understand.  You could’ve had the goddamn decency to warn me _before_ I fucking fell for you!”

Now Cas’ eyes were set into something fierce and he followed Dean’s every move, “I’m telling you it was a mistake.  One, singular mistake!  And I apologize, I had no idea what would happen between us.  Of course, I hoped for the best and expected the worst.  I had no idea how lucky I would get.  Dean, you’re…I-I can’t lose you.  You say you fell for me, well, I love you.  And that’s not changing.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s chin and emphasized, “It will always be you.  I’ve…never experienced anything like this in my entire life.  The need, the want to be with someone.  Just _one_ person.  But that person is you.  I don’t need sex, I just need you by my side.  I need your snarky remarks, your clean-freak habits, your smile and the beautiful way you blush.  And if I get lucky enough to take you to bed and give you all the pleasure you deserve?  I’ll give it to you, over and over.”

Still stunned, and having the lack of words, Castiel tried one more time, pathetically, “What can I do to make this better?”

Dean’s eyes flickered down, because he didn’t know the answer, but the words, the confession that _Cas loved him_ was causing him to bend, and he knew he was going to break if he pushed any further.

This was a case of self-preservation.  Clear and simple.  Maybe that’s what he needed to emphasize.

“I don’t know,” Dean finally raised his voice with the admission.  “Maybe it was a wake-up call.  Maybe being monogamous just isn’t in your blood, Cas, and...that’s all right.  Some people aren’t built for that, but that’s the only way I can even consider something.  You jumping out with Meg because you were so apprehensive about being with me?  That’s…saying something.”

“And I was wrong,” Cas pleaded, “You know damn well what I was like.  And you know, on the same note, how I’ve changed.  For you.”

“Have you?”  His voice was monotone, hoping this would give Cas that push, a way out.  “Because if you want to go back to the way things were, it’s fine.  Maybe we got too caught up.  Maybe we forgot the whole point of this.  Maybe we lived the fantasy and liked it too much.”

“You are not a fantasy,” Cas growled, the growing frustrating evident.  “You are my boyfriend.  My _real_ boyfriend, and there will be no one else but you.  You’ll have no one else but me.  Because I’m _not_ letting you fucking go.  We’re working through this, because I know what we have is special.  I told you I love you, I _meant it_.”

“I…” All right, maybe that finally caused him to crack.  More like shattered him into a million pieces.  “I l-love you, too.  But Cas, you can’t,” he groaned and ran a hand through his hair, “don’t treat this like a game, an experiment, because if you break my heart?  It’s gonna break _me_.”

Instead of answering with words, Cas lunged and laid them both out on the couch.  “You better believe I’d never, ever do anything like that to you.  You’re mine, I’ll protect you, dote on you - I'll give you everything you need.  Tell me what you want, right now.  You still…aren’t Dean.”

“Just hold me, I think.”  He glanced at his boyfriend, yes, _still_ boyfriend and admitted, “I was lonely last night.  But I was too hurt and confused to head back in.  Thought about it so many times, but then I wondered…what if someone had been in your bed before _me_ yesterday?  Or the day before?  When I was at work?  It...killed me.”

“Never.  Never again,” he vowed, kissing his neck as he rearranged them.  “But now that you mention it…I believe cuddling would be much easier in my bed than this couch.  Is…that alright?”

With a half-smile, Dean nodded, standing up and dragging the comforter with him.  “You’re right.  You know how much I loathe those goddamn leather couches for anything besides TV.”

With a low whistle Cas scooped Dean up right before they entered - which made Dean explode with a bird-like noise.  Cas proceeded to tease, “You must have _really_ hated me to spend the night out there on those ‘goddamn leather couches.’”  He tossed him back to the mattress and tugged the comforter back where it belonged.  He also took a moment to watch Dean, and thought this is where _he_ belonged, too.

“I have a crazy idea,” Cas warned, crawling on the bed to meet Dean, where he was trying to get tucked under the covers.

He nodded for him to continue.

Cryptically, Castiel prefaced, “Do you like it here?  Besides the furniture,” he chuckled while he pulled Dean to his chest, now tucked in nice and cozy.  “Do you really see us working?”

Dean was so sleep deprived at that point, he didn’t even think much of the questions and kind of blurted his answers, “’Course I like it here.  And as for us?”  He sighed and pulled Cas closer, “I’m hoping.  Praying, even though I’m not the type.  But I _really_ hope we do.”

So far, so good, Castiel thought and kissed Dean’s forehead gently.  “Don’t freak out, it’s just a thought.”

“Shit, I’ve been freaking out a lot lately, what’s this one going to be about?” Dean grimaced even though Cas couldn’t see it.

But he wasn’t backing down, he held him tighter and explained with fondness, “I love having you here.  It feels like you’re supposed to be here.  It just makes sense to me.  Would you ever consider, maybe...moving in with me?  So I can show you how you’re my entire world and I don’t want to go a day without you?  So we can run all our errands together, the paparazzi won’t catch you by yourself anymore and-”

“Seriously?” Dean asked in sheer disbelief.  “You _actually_ want me around like that?”

Castiel leaned back, because he needed to see Dean’s expression.  And it was just as baffled as he sounded.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, it’s just-” he was confused, as though he never thought someone would want him around, and that just killed Castiel.  “After a fight.  Instead of kiss-and-makeup. _Or_ make-up sex.  You ask me to _move in?_  It’s just…kind of crazy.”

“To be fair, I warned you it _was_ a crazy idea.  But Dean...we’ve already been living together for a solid week,.  Not merely living together, but on top of each other, constantly together to figure out each other’s life story.  And I _still_ want more.  There haven’t been problems, I’ve been more at ease than I’ve been in a damn long time.  And your cooking?”  He added in that last bit to tease him, “I want to prove to you that I’m in this for real.  What other proof do you need?”

“I…” Dean wasn’t sure what to say.  What he was supposed to say, what he meant to say, any of it?  “That’s a, uh, pretty hefty sign of proof.”

“It is,” Castiel nodded, “And I mean it.  I mean every word of it.  You know my filter is lacking, so what other motivation would I have for asking you to move in, besides wanting to be with you?”

Locking them in a stare-down, Dean admitted, “You’ve got a damn good point.”

“What are your thoughts?”  For the first time since he’d met him, since Dean had even _heard_ the name Castiel Novak, the actor appeared genuinely nervous.

Dean had all the power in this situation, and while that felt good to hold the reins it was also terrifying.  “I…like it.  Too much.  I’m worried we’re jumping into it, but-”

“No buts.”  He was swiftly interrupted by words and actions, the actor rolling them around so he was hovering over Dean with a wide grin.  “It’s decided.  I’ll have an assistant ready a moving van, and later this week we can go through your belongings and see what you wish to bring, what you wish to leave.  I want you, Smith.  All of you, and I intend to keep you.”


	6. Chapter Five

“It’s decided.  I’ll have an assistant ready a moving van and later this week we can go through your belongings and see what you wish to bring, what you wish to leave.  I want you, Smith.  All of you, and I intend to keep you.”

His words were so final, Dean couldn’t help the lopsided grin that appeared on his face when he teased, “Oh yeah?  Now this is sounding a lot like a kidnapping.”

“Mm,” Cas boldly leaned down and nibbled along Dean’s jaw line.  “Perhaps you’ll develop Stockholm Syndrome.”  He brushed their lips, a bare tease, whispering, “Unless you already have it…”

Dean shivered, the proximity of their bodies so damn close, yet too far away, still.  “That some kind of twisted fantasy of yours?” he teased, “I hate to break it to you, but-”

Before he could finish, out of nowhere, Castiel kissed him surprisingly fierce and the words died on his lips.  Mostly, because his lips were too busy moving against Cas’ (he couldn’t help it, all right?) and his tongue was brushing against the intrusive one, licking inside his mouth.

Cas’ forearms moved to box him in, resting on either side of his head while running through his hair and tugging just on the right side of rough.  When Dean tossed his head back to moan, his exposed neck was taken advantage of - a barrage of open-mouthed, hot kisses moving down his throat.  Some were aggressively leaving marks, yet all of them were pushing the right buttons.

Dean could barely move, between the fingers woven through his hair, Cas dropping his body weight on top of his, and the lack of fight in him.  He wanted to see where this was going…he couldn’t help but voice it, too.

“W-what got into you?” he asked between gasps.

With a hum, Cas glanced up from where he’d been nibbling Dean’s collarbone and nonchalantly said, “The thought of having you here, all to myself.  The idea of waking up next to you every morning, _oh_ ,” he sat up enough to drag Dean’s shirt over his head.  “And the fact that you looked absolutely gorgeous in that tuxedo and I never had my way with you.  I’d been preoccupied fantasizing from the moment you put it on.”

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes, “So you’re pent-up?  See, you are a sex addict.”

“No, I’m a you-addict,” he corrected with a sharp grin.  “You’ve transformed me.  My eyes couldn’t leave you, it was like you see in the movies: when the entire world fizzles away and all that was left was Dean Smith.  I was obsessed.  Taken.  Reminded of my feelings, and everything…solidified.  Which was why I wasn’t merely disappointed with the turn of events, I was…” he searched for the word as he pulled off his own shirt.  “Despondent.  Rejected.  Truly lost.”

“At a loss of-”

He was shut up once more as Castiel ground their hips together, making Dean groan out a curse while Castiel inhaled sharply, watching him with lust and something _much_ more intense.  While he continued the rhythm of his pelvis, he now held himself over the top of Dean, watching him intently and holding himself right outside his reach.

“Yesterday,” Cas sighed out in pleasure, “was when I finally realized just how much I truly loved you, Dean.”

Yes, as cliché as it sounded, Dean’s heart skipped a beat - and that’s why he realized Cas was quashing all his jokes and passive-aggressive ribbing before they left his mouth.  Because he truly meant this, and Dean could honestly say he never imagined this day would ever come.

He was at a loss, his emotions running even stronger than the throbbing need between his legs - but after a split-second of Cas’ face falling from Dean’s lack of a response, he went back to work making sure to render him speechless on purpose.  In an aggressive move, he ripped away Dean’s boxers and took his cock into his mouth.

And, dammit!  If Dean _wanted_ to tell him how he felt the same, how much he loved him too, it went out the window because - _holy hell_ \- did Cas waste no time bobbing up and down on his dick and then taking him down his throat.

With a shouted, “God, Cas!” Dean desperately ripped away the sheets to watch him and he felt lightheaded, it was so obscene.

The way Castiel swallowed around him when he bumped the back of his throat, as his hand came up to roll his balls in his palm.  It was a sensory overload.  There was also the fact that Cas was staring right at him, eyelids heavy and wanting, and Dean couldn’t tear his gaze away.  

This man was beautiful, he was fucking perfect and he wanted Dean?  He couldn’t comprehend it, but he could focus on the physical sensation of Cas’ finger teasing his dry hole.  He barely pushed in his fingertip and Dean’s greedy mind needed more.  His eyes glanced beyond where Castiel was crouched, seeing the man’s erection practically fighting against the boxers, a wet spot visible through the light blue cotton.

Dean licked his lips without knowing, and when Cas popped off his cock, he asked, “See something you like, Mr. Smith?”

“I don’t see anything I don’t like,” he countered, and met Cas’ desperate eyes.  “Tell me what you want.  I ruined your night, so I should make it up to you,” he decided all at once, since he couldn’t spit the _other_ words out as easily as the actor could.

Cas stopped for a second to take in that concept, and Dean almost regretted saying it because maybe he shouldn’t have brought the negative part up.  Instead, he reworded it with, “What were you planning on doing to me last night?  I want you to take,” and hoped that re-wording worked.

“I was planning a lot of things last night,” Cas flicked his tongue over the new precum beading up on the head of Dean’s cock.  “Wasn’t going to let you get any sleep, actually.”  He wrapped his hand around the base and began pumping the length, slick and hot from his mouth.

Dean tried not to choke on his words as Cas fisted him and swirled his tongue around his cock.  It was almost like a race to the finish - and it was working.  The heat of an impending orgasm was building up in Dean’s core already, but that’s _not_ what he wanted.  Had he messed up?  It sure seemed that way.

Dammit, it _wasn’t_ supposed to go like this-

“Were you going to make love to me?” Dean finally spoke out, and that managed to get Cas’ full attention.  “Because if that was on the list, I’d be more than willing.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side and inquired aloud, “Would you?” and finally crawled up his body, within range of his lips.  “You seem squeamish, on the fence about it.  I wouldn’t wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Being proactive, Dean lightly flicked the waistband of Cas’ boxers and pointed out, “It’s hard to be comfortable with those still on,” with a raised brow.

“Is that right?”  A smirk tugged on his features as he finally removed them, Dean enraptured by the sight of Cas’ dick.  And Cas would never get tired of the thrill in Dean’s reaction.  “We were together two nights ago, can you handle it or do we need-”

“Give it to me,” he demanded before Cas could even finish.  He went the extra mile, his attention to detail bar none as he reached into the correct drawer to find the lube and condoms himself, and said, “I know you’ll take care of me,” which lit the fire in Cas all over again.

In the blink of an eye, their lips collided and the next minute Dean felt a teasing, lubed-up finger sliding against his rim.  He knew it wouldn’t be perfect, he knew it may get a little rough - but his desire surpassed all of it.  His hands reached out and steadied on Cas’ hips, just waiting for him to do something other than circle his damn hole.

Dean had been on the edge too long, dammit, he needed this!  But then again, he remembered, that was something that Cas needed even more than the foreplay, than the sex, than any of this combined.

Disregarding all of it, even though Dean didn’t move his hands, he did head butt Cas to get his attention.  He was lust drunk and buried in desire at the same time, opening his mouth to ask what Dean needed, or maybe even to whisper something filthy that would have him begging in no time.  But that’s not what Dean had to say.

“Cas, I’m not on the fence, I meant it,” he brushed his nose against Cas’ ear, earning a full-body shiver when he confessed, “I do love you.  And I plan on proving it.”

The sad thing was the hint of disbelief on Castiel’s face before the wide grin, and the, “Good, me too,” as he finally sunk inside Dean’s body.

It was a tight fit, maybe a little more than either expected, but he was gentle and kissed Dean tenderly, over and over, until he was ready.  Cas didn’t care how long he’d need to wait, if he would need to pull out, he didn’t care about a damn thing except his boyfriend’s pleasure.  And it looked like he was finally ready.

It wasn’t words that spurred Cas on, it was Dean lifting his pelvis to grind against his cock while he tenderly kissed his lips and nodded.  Everything in those soft gestures (even though the grinding did have Cas’ dick pulsing, holy hell) was foreign, but something neither knew they needed.  It was sweet, as Cas began to rock in and out of Dean, the same way his hands roamed his body.

Even though Dean was overwhelmed, the sensations were familiar and different, he felt like he was being held with reverie.  Except, at the same time, Cas’ hips slamming inside him made Dean see stars.

It was a mix and match of amazing sex and compassionate touches, all of it mixed together equated to the real deal.

Yeah - this _was it._

Their bodies were overwhelmed with pleasure, and it was different because they’d never made love like this to anyone before.  No prior relationships, ‘love at first fucks,’ this connection was real and the way they never stopped kissing solidified it.

Then, after being constantly teased with Cas’ mouth, Dean was riding that edge and moaning, “God, I love you,” right as he coated them both in his release, Cas, enthralled with the sight.

It was those three words that tipped him over the edge.  Words that Castiel would never, ever become tired of hearing.  From the confession, to the phrase uttered in the throes of passion, they sounded amazing on Dean’s lips and made him nearly choke up while he came hard into his lover.

Cas kept his arms wrapped around Dean until he couldn’t, until he had to pull off and throw the condom away.  He quickly wiped down both their bodies with a stray shirt, before Dean could even suggest a shower, because Cas wanted to linger in bed for a little while longer and talk.  The afterglow made him grin like a total goof as he took in the sight of Dean sprawled out in his bed - because this was going to be a familiar sight soon.  One he’d never get over.

This was where he belonged.

“What’s that face for?” Dean noticed instantly and called him out, yet the expression was contagious and he was smiling like a dork himself.

Cas rolled back into bed and laid on his side to face Dean.  “Just contemplating how perfect everything is.  Wonder what I’ve done in my selfish, iniquity-filled life to deserve you.  I’m willing to accept this fluke, I just hope the powers that be don’t find out about it and take you away from me.”

“Heh, you’re a nerd,” Dean rolled on his side, too.  “That was nice.  Maybe we both deserved a break.  Maybe it _was_ just meant to be, or I hope it was...because these feelings I’ve got for you?  They’ve, uh, been here for a damn long time.  Maybe waiting around pays off.”

His eyes brightened and he tackled Dean to say, “See, that’s why I’m saying we’re not moving too fast, at all.  You’ve been my publicist for years and we’ve both been pining for one another for nearly as long.  It’s not as though we’re strangers.  And…” his voice dropped to a hushed whisper, “I’ve never felt love in my life.  I’ll fight for it, fight for you.  I need you here.”

Dean’s smile was warm and he pulled Cas close, kissing his forehead in this rare moment of vulnerability.  “I sure as hell ain’t picking a fight.  So we’re going to do this.”

“Thank God.”  Cas said, then suggested, “Little bit more cuddle time?  I believe we’ve earned it.”

“Yeah, yeah - I’d like that.”

\------------------------

When Dean strode confidently into work the next day, their receptionist gave him the side-eye as he waved and made a beeline for Charlie’s office.  He had a few (numerous) things to discuss with her, and when he entered her office and shut the door behind him, she made a high-pitched yipping noise showing she was clearly caught off guard.

“What the flip, Smith?!”  She demanded, hands balled into fists at her side.  “You’re lucky I didn’t have an arm full of papers, it would’ve been a damn confetti explosion!”

With a deep breath and a hand on her chest, Charlie took in Dean’s shit-eating grin and asked, “What?  Why are you looking at me like that?  What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” he said cryptically, opting to lean on the corner of her desk rather than take a seat.  “But you, Char.  You’ve been a little shit and been talking to Cas behind my back.  I know this for a fact, and you owe me!  Just what the hell have you been telling him?”

Charlie made that face.  Yep, that caught-in-the-act face where she was trying to play it cool but it was all kinds of awkward.  As was the nervous laugh, and the pathetic, “Uh, I dunno what you’re talking about…”

“Not only did I hear you two talking, I went through his phone records and saw not one, but _four_ different conversations.”  He narrowed his eyes watching her, pressing on, “What were you chatting it up about?”

“Just…things.  Ya know, what was going on with social media.  Since he was preoccupied with your charade, he needed to know-”

“Bullshit.  You were talking about me.”  Dean had heard them, he knew it, he wanted answers.

“Okay!  Fine!  I was helping him…” she chewed on her lip, because the real answer was difficult to word.

So Dean helped her along with, “Seduce me.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Charlie grumbled, but then corrected him with conviction, “It was more like romancing you!  He totally has a thing for you, Smith!  I mean, what are the odds of that?!  Unless your heart eyes whenever he walked into the office were fake, or something.   I thought you two would be adorbs together!”

She instantly crowded his space, now that the cat was out of the bag and demanded, “So?  Did it work?  You two were so perf on the red carpet!  Did you at least make out?”

“See, here’s the thing,” Dean reached out and grabbed her shoulder.  “I only came in here to fuck with you a little.  There’s more important things to do.  Like your job.  Need you to get some new information out there, okay?”

Charlie’s eyes were full of suspicion, rather than curiosity because Dean’s tone it was downright mischievous.  And her coworker was anything but.  He was straight-laced, his nine to five was his life, and right now he was acting as though his fake lover had rubbed off on him.  Charlie realized with barely-hidden excitement, that maybe he had!

“What’s this said information?”

“That we’re taking it to the next level,” Dean patted her on the shoulder and stood back up.  “I’m moving in with him.”

“Woah, woah, Dean!  I know you wanna keep Castiel on the straight and narrow, but don’t you think smothering him is gonna make him claustrophobic?  I mean, it’d be hot news, but all the pics from the Oscars are circulating like _wildfire_ and it’s already covered up the sex-tape scandal, you don’t need to-”

“No.  Charlie.”  Dean’s entire demeanor changed in the blink of an eye: he was happy, almost downright giddy and excited.  “It was his idea.  He asked me to move in.  We’re…he told me he loves me.  And I never thought I’d say it, but...I feel the same.”

“ _What_?!”  Her screech was loud enough for the entire building to hear.  “Are you bullshitting me?!  T-this is…you…both of you…?!”

He had to stop Charlie’s flailing by grabbing her arms and gluing them to her sides.  “Yeah, unexpected, I know.  But we’re not pretending anymore.  It happened. _We_ happened.  And you can report it, leak it, I don’t care how you do it.  Because tomorrow Cas’ assistant is getting the moving truck!”

“Well…hot damn,” she was shaking her head in sheer disbelief, a smile finally spreading across her cheeks.  “Dean, I-I’m happy for you!  Wow.  Just - _wow_.”

Dean patted her cheek lightly, and just before he waltzed out, he paused in the doorframe and thoughtfully called back over his shoulder, “Do we have any dirt on Meg Masters?”

Charlie had already begun walking back to her computer, and was thrown off guard once again by the words Dean continued to say.  She tilted her head, inquiring, “ _Dirt_ , dirt?  Like, we talkin’ basic news, skeletons, gossip, good stuff?  Although, I doubt Meg Masters does _anything_ good with her spare time…”

“Skeletons and gossip.  The more humiliating, the better,” Dean decided with a grin.  “If there’s nothing out there, make something up.  Just some kind of seed of doubt to sow.  Make everyone question her credibility and her, in general.”

“Oo, is this a little vengeance I’m feeling?” Charlie’s smirk was wicked, “’Cause if you want me to dig, I know damn well I can find something.”

“Yes, and yes please,” he flashed her a thumbs up.  “You’re the best, Char!”

“Oh no, you are!  The amount of positive press we’re gonna get after this?”  She laughed to herself and sat down in her chair.  “Must be nice to be in love!”

“It is, oddly enough.  I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Dean finished and shut Charlie’s door to give her some privacy.

He was on cloud nine all day, work flew by and before he knew it, he was clocking out.  The random texts Cas sent him helped, there were the cute ones, the sassy ones and the downright dirty ones.  He could see this being a problem in the future, but for now he didn’t give a flying fuck.  This was the honeymoon period, after all.

Dean figured he was allowed to indulge.

\--------------------

A few months later and Dean was used to the paparazzi.  Hell, he even knew a few of them by name because Cas didn’t mind being chatty with those who hung out around their house.  Yes, _their_ house.

Dean followed his example, because they refrained from being pushy when you were cordial, and he still had a group that would follow him like baby ducklings when he decided to eat lunch outside the office.  After all, there were some days Cas wasn’t filming so he showed up at work to distract him and that’s what the photags were hoping for.

The groups around the PR building were nice enough, they weren’t reckless and obnoxious.  These days, they were chatting Dean up more and more.

Castiel had landed a _huge_ role in a movie with an all-star cast and for some reason, they assumed that Dean held all the secrets.  Which was nonsense, because the only thing he could offer them was how late filming went and what he made for dinner that Cas heated up in the oven when he got home from shooting.

It was exciting, though.  Since the last thing Cas had done was the mini-series, this movie was a huge change.

Dean was lucky enough that it filmed in LA.  Well, the first part, anyway.

He was also lucky that he was independent, Dean had always been that way, because someone else may have been frustrated and felt alone with Cas’ filming schedule.  It ran right off Dean’s back.  He’d even gotten used to the events, the hair and make-up team, allowing Cas to spoil him with the finer things because that was something the actor found great joy in.

But the best thing was that everything was working.

They were working.

And this was the happiest Dean had ever been in his entire life.

Who knew that this reformed bad-boy of an actor who had previously been the biggest pain in the ass of a client would end up being the link that was missing in his life?  Cas had dropped his habits for their ‘show in front of the camera’ and never went back.

\---------------------------

Nearly six months after that was what they counted as their one-year anniversary.

Dean and Castiel couldn’t help laughing, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it was too damn perfect.

From Lisa sipping champagne with them as the team got them ready, to the shots of bourbon on the way to the awards show.  Dean was beyond arm candy at this point, he wasn’t a date on Cas’ arm anymore, he’d found his place as an equal in his own right no matter what questions were fired in his direction.

Yet, one question remained the same: “What do you think Mr. Novak’s chances are for winning Best Actor tonight?”

His movie had barely come to theaters within the award season and it was a come-from-behind favorite.  God, Dean was glowing with pride over the nomination to begin with, it didn’t matter whether or not Cas won it, he didn’t think he could even top the feeling of happiness for his boyfriend.

Later in the evening, when Cas’ name _was_ called for the win?  It was surreal.  Even more dreamlike when he was on the stage, Oscar in hand, dedicating it to his former publicist and now, love of his life, Dean Smith.

He needed someone to pinch him, Dean never in a million years thought he’d end up here.  And as the show wound down, all he wanted was to get the fuck home and finish off their anniversary, showing Cas just how much he was appreciated and loved right back.

They couldn’t get there fast enough, they were glowing, holding hands and chatting with their usual driver about how the night went - proudly showing off the statue.  Last time at the Oscars, Dean had been drunk, jealous and in the worst place thinking this was their last night together.  Tonight was the turn around he would have never anticipated happening.

He was already getting texts from Charlie about social media blowing up around the two of them.  Dean didn’t care about that, hell, he even turned his phone to silent.  The only thing he cared about was the man whose fingers were laced with his.  Cas’ smile was vibrant, contagious and fucking beautiful, the moment they pulled up his eyes came alive and they all but sprinted for the house - biding the driver farewell in awkward half-shouts over their shoulders.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Cas asked wolfishly as he shut the door behind them, taking both their coats and haphazardly throwing them on the coat rack.

Dean was already on the move, countering, “That we should be doing some one-on-one celebrating?”

“God, I fucking love you,” Castiel praised, chasing after him as they both took off running to the bedroom.

There was a trail of ties, jackets, belts, and whatever they could rip off along the way, but it wasn’t until they arrived that they could really concentrate on not literally _tearing_ their expensive tuxedos to shreds.  It was getting to that point, the desire hot in their eyes, the passion in their veins, and the love that consumed them both whole.

If Cas had his way, he’d gladly go full-on feral, but Dean had reprimanded him in the past, which was why in this situations they had a ground rule.  No damage to the clothes.  They took off their own as fast as they could, because then they could get to the good stuff even quicker.  

There was this race as they watched each other, it felt like the temperature in the room was heating up, even though they were shedding the garments.  With each new exposed length of skin, showing off the flexing muscles, their mouths went dry.  When Dean went for his zipper, he felt his cock was already hard and whimpered from just the brush of his own hand, knowing soon it would be Cas’ touch.

But then (just to be an ass) Dean drew the fly down, and stroked himself through his boxer briefs, moaning provocatively.

“Dean,” Cas growled as a warning, “You’re putting my patience to the test.”

And, oh, did he _love it_ when Cas sounded wild like that.

“Can’t help it, this is what you do to me.  Just watching you,” Dean boldly responded, hand still cupping his erection before it looked like Cas would dive out and tackle him.

He took the hint and rapidly continued to pull away the bottom half of his dress wear.  He bent over to get out of the pooled slacks and boxers, then all he had left was to tug off the socks.  And the moment he pulled off the socks, his attention downward-

Cas collided into him like a linebacker, scooping him up and over until he was slammed down onto the bed.

With a grin, Dean fought to catch his breath, right before Cas stole it away once more, this time with his lips.  He didn’t mind it, not at all, because he’d been thinking, _itching_ to kiss him like this all night long.  Sure, there were short pecks here and there, but that was all they were allowed to get away with in public, in front of the people and the cameras.

Yet the entire time, Dean yearned for that powerful, take-your-breath-away kiss, and Cas was sure as hell delivering.

“You were gorgeous tonight,” Cas whispered, cupping his cheek and smiling, then teased, “Damn, do you clean up well.”

“Heh, could say the same about you.”  Dean took a chance and used all his body weight to roll them around, so he was on top of Cas looking down on him.  “You were amazing, you know.  I won’t inflate your ego anymore, but you should know that.”

He looked simply intrigued to be on his back as Dean kissed down his neck.  Sure, leading up to the event they couldn’t exactly get rowdy like they had the tendency to do, leaving reminders behind of their wild night.  But now that it was over, Dean deliberately sucked his mark on Cas’ neck.  Precisely where he knew it sent a shiver right to his dick.

Cas unabashedly moaned his name, his hips bucking up against Dean’s.  He grappled out to grab his ass and yanked him downward so their hips rutted together.  Dean’s gasp was a hot breath against Cas’ throat, but he wouldn’t be distracted that easily.

He wrapped his hand in long dark hair and pulled to have another go at the beautiful expanse of skin.  Dean flicked his tongue over the first set of light teeth marks before he dipped forward and sucked a bruise to the side of it.

“God, Dean, you’re playing rough tonight,” Castiel all but purred, squeezing his ass cheeks firmly before rolling his hips into his boyfriend’s.  “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not playing rough,” he responded, voice huskier than he’d anticipated.  “I’m leaving my mark, claiming you as mine.  You’ve rubbed off on me, Cas.  Too much.”

He tilted his chin with a hushed, “I’m not complaining,” before he stole a kiss and then fell back to the bed.

Castiel was thoroughly interested in what Dean had up his sleeve, because the look on his face was downright devilish.  He watched as Dean tilted his pelvis forward just enough to wrap his right hand around their cocks.  He jerked them off together, thumbing the precum down their shafts for enough of a slide, and while Cas was rocking, needing more frictions, needing more-

It was a distraction.

Dean, while pitched forward, had just enough arm span to reach into the drawer and grab the lube.  

His grin turned wicked as he swapped hands, and coated Cas’ cock with lube, commanding, “I’m riding you tonight.”

The order was enough to make more precum drool and mix in with the lube, and Cas let out a long, approving moan.  “Goddamn, you’re something else, all right.”

Dean didn’t bother to respond or be concerned with Cas’ quips, he wanted him too fucking much.  So he was going _to take_.  It had been a while since they’d used condoms, after deciding they were in it for the long haul, they instantly got tested.  When they were given the go ahead from the results, they just couldn’t wait to get closer.

Like right now.  Dean had lifted himself with pure muscle from his thighs to hover over Cas’ cock.  He watched the man hold his breath as he swirled it around his hole, deliberately holding out.  Dean wore a Cheshire-grin, seeing Cas’ clenched fists, his ground teeth and the sweat beading up on his brow.

Just when he was about to sink down, he’d let the head catch on the cleft on his ass and dramatically breathed in.  He could see Cas was going to snap at any time, based on the tension in his entire body, the way he was deliberately forcing his hips into the mattress and zooming in directly, ready to watch Dean sink down.

After dipping down and pulling off, after taking _only_ the head of Cas’ cock, the man growled something fierce and snapped, “Are you _trying_ to kill me?!”

Dean tsked and shook his head, “Why would I do that?  I like having you around.”

“That’s it-” The half-grumble was all the warning Dean had before Cas reached out and physically grabbed his hips, forcing him down with gravity, and fully sheathing him on Cas’ throbbing erection.  “Oh fuck, yes!”

With his head tossed back, Dean admonished, “You’re ruining the fun!” halfheartedly because the pleasure and that initial stretch always sent shivers and waves upon waves of pleasure through him.  “ _Dammit_ , Cas!”  He hunched back over and glared icily at his boyfriend.

One who was wearing that cat-that-caught-the-canary grin.  “Don’t act like you’re so put out,” he teased, rolling his hips to fuck deep into Dean’s body from where they were flush, “Ah, you feel amazing, Dean.  Every time feels like the first time, so good for me, so tight-”

He wrapped his hands in Cas’ hair and held him back with an assertive jerk, the tug served as a warning to keep him from making any other choices on his own.  That lit up his boyfriend’s eyes with undeniable lust, his jaw dropped open in awe and in that moment, he gave Dean his submission.

Which was an amazing aphrodisiac and initiative to rock up and off Cas’ cock and drop - unforgivingly brutal - downward.  Dean could see Cas’ mind working a mile a minute as he fucked himself on his cock.  His eyes were flickering all over - from the sight of Dean taking his dick, to his hips - where he wanted to grab and support Dean.  To his mouth, where Cas’ own tongue darted out to lick his own lips, craving the taste of Dean’s.  To Dean’s cock - swollen, red and bobbing up and down with the frantic the pace.

Because Cas’ undivided and hot, needy, desperate attention?

It was doing things to Dean.

For purchase, Dean pinned Cas down further by placing his hands on his chest, then fanning them out.  He could feel not only his toned, perfect body - but his heartbeat.  It threatened to burst at any time, and that made Dean smile.

He switched it up, using the new angle to his utmost advantage - arching his back, rolling his body, pushing himself back down to take him even deeper than before, and Cas….had never seen Dean move like this.  It was pornographic, the way his spine moved like a wave, like the moves Cas had seen in strip clubs-

And here was his beautiful boyfriend, making his mouth go dry, shoving him down with his tenacity, undulating on his dick.  This was one hell of an anniversary gift.

“Y-you’ve been holding out on me-” Cas gasped, trying to force the words out, because he needed Dean to know, “Most beautiful, perfect, sexy thing I’ve ever encountered and I-I get to keep you.”

While Dean didn’t look full of himself, per se, he did appear accomplished.

He sat back, swiveling his hips into figure-eights and agreed, voice low and trying to temper his own desperation with, “You do get to keep me.  How about you claim me, Cas.”  With another deep, impossibly deep movement that ground them together, Dean whispered, “Fill me up with your cum, baby.”

“Thank God,” Cas blurted out, “I’m so close, fuck, you’ve had me on the edge forever, you sneaky, beautiful, sonuvabitch.”  He rocked upward to see if he would be stopped, but Dean grinned instead of reprimanding him.  “Please, please, I need to kiss you.”

“Y-yeah,” Dean felt the urge too, and when they both began meeting halfway with their bodies slamming together, Dean not doing all the work any longer, they finally could.

Now that all the rules had been broken they were caressing each other all over.  Hunger overwhelmed them, finally tasting each other and licking into the other’s mouth, needing the intimacy and connection - rather than a blatantly overt carnal desire.  No, this wasn’t about two bodies coming together, this was about two lover, two people who knew they were in it for life, coming together.

In fact, Cas gripped Dean so tightly, feeling his orgasm building in his stomach and took a moment out of time to confess to him, “I love you so much, you saved me,” which may have confused Dean, but the sincerity and love glistening in Cas’ eyes…it was so genuine and gorgeous.

A few more thrusts later, Cas was coming undone and filled Dean’s body, blowing his load into his ass with no barrier which was _still_ something he couldn’t get over.  As Dean had said, it felt like a claim of sorts and that meant that Castiel was hooked.

He continued to fuck Dean as hard as he could for as long as he could, and thankfully, Dean was pitching forward and shouting out his name within the next second.  He’d pinned Cas back down to the bed and kept on kissing him breathless, because, yeah, this was one hell of an anniversary.

Not to mention the night they _needed_ a redo of.

It was all the ups and downs coming together: and they weren’t hoping for something ‘okay’ in the middle.  Call them optimists, but their personal goal was to overshadow any negatives (those would remain in the darkness) and said redo falling on such a date…there may be high expectations but they worked well under pressure.

That was something they’d both proved over the previous year.

Dean may as well be happily purring, still a little buzzed, and content as fuck.  He didn’t care about the cum or the sweat, he just wanted to be with his boyfriend for as long as he could.  Just like this.  Because it was so damn perfect.

“Cas, I love you, too.  I think this worked out pretty damn well.”  Dean acted as though it was a comment in passing, and before he could say his next phrase, Cas had to interrupt.

“So did you pay your way through school at a strip club?  Have you been holding out on me?” Cas raised a very, very curious eyebrow and his gaze was scrutinizing.

“Oh my God.  You _would_ think that.”  With a snort, Dean grabbed a pillow to smack him with, then tucked it underneath their heads without having to disrupt their bodies.  “Yoga.  You ever heard of it?  I have such a tight schedule, sometimes it’s difficult to make it to the gym, so I watch and do yoga videos for exercise.”

“Dammit,” Cas teased, “I was hoping you could do some work on a pole…”

“Sorry to disappoint.  Now I’ve got a question for _you_ ,” Dean prefaced it with the sweetest, chaste kiss on the lips before he looked Cas in the eyes.  He could have rested anywhere, but he needed to stare him down when he said the words, “How did I save you?”

Shit, Cas should have known that would come around and there was no chance he would get so lucky to have Dean ignore it, let it go, or whatever.  It was kind of in his job description - getting to the truth of the matter.  He normally didn’t bring that attitude back home, let alone in the bedroom, but this may be a little more different, considering the blurted out words.

“You just…did.” Cas shrugged his shoulders and tried to blow it off, but one look from Dean said there was no way in hell that would happen anytime soon.  Okay!  Here went nothing!

“I never really wanted to say it before because I thought it would be too much.  That I was putting too much pressure on us...and it was unfair to you,” Castiel began to explain and pushed up off the mattress until he was leaning against the headboard.  “I didn’t want you to stay with me because of my penchant for dramatics.  And if it didn’t work I would be heartbroken, but I’d understand…these things happen.  But you, Dean?  You’d continue putting yourself in the line of fire for me, because your heart it’s…amazing.  It’s open, forgiving, and there to take anyone in.”

Dean rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on his fists, focusing solely on Cas.  “Alright.  Obviously, you know by now I ain’t going anywhere.  Even if you pulled something stupid, I’ll just get annoyed and slap you.”  He took a chance and reached out to squeeze Cas’ thigh.  “You know…I wanna spend the rest of my life with you…” it was hushed, and it perked Cas’ attention, but Dean stopped him with, “You first!”

“Just where I was.  What I was doing.  It was the same old, same old.  My tolerance for everything was _too_ high.  I’d spend god-awful amounts on drugs, on partying, I probably lost a chunk of my life going weeks on end without sleep because of Adderall and coke.  Every day was a party, but my attitude was every party was a _distraction_ .  From my...lonely existence.  I hardly ever entered the scene because I was excited, no, it was an escape from reality.  I had been doing that too much.  The drug, the alcohol, the women.  All tickets to get out of my head.”

Castiel sighed and slowly looked at Dean.  “That was, until I found you.  You ordered me to get clean.  I had a mission as an actor that carried over to real life, which was very odd but it distracted me from my self-made prison.  You were always with me, alongside me in bed when the nights were normally cold and my nightmares fucked me up.”

“You got me sober.  The crush I’d been harboring for so long, unbeknownst to me, was reciprocated,” a secret smile brightened Cas’ face, “And when I found that out?  I cannot even begin to tell you how happy I was.  You filled in the gaps I’ve attempted to fill with other things, with the pathetic Hollywood dark side.  You gave me a _reason_ to really live again.”

Dean couldn’t hold back another second.  He launched from where he was previously laying and collected Castiel into his arms.  “I’d do it all again.  I’d do it sooner, hell, if I had realized - I wouldn’t have been a dick about things…”

Cas’ hands slowly raised from behind and clutched at Dean’s back, his head resting in his shoulder.  This felt like home.  Where they were right now, and he was warmed with joy and happiness.  Still, this was one thing he was wondering, after he said a genuine, “Thank you, Dean…”

“Did you mean it?”  Castiel asked, pulling just far enough away so he could see Dean’s face, since his masks around him never held up well.  “That you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Dean awkwardly scratched the back of his head and admitted, “Kind of an awkward time for that kind of declaration, but from where your head was at, from what I could read from you…I thought it would help.  And, _yeah_ , I meant it.  I think we both changed each other for the better and this love?  Ain’t going anywhere.”

He cupped Cas’ face and asked, very seriously, “Castiel Novak, unfortunately, I don’t have any rings because this wasn’t supposed to be a thing right now...but would you spent the rest of your life with me?”

“Oh, Dean,” he whispered, pushing beyond the hands (although he did raise one of his own to cup Dean’s cheek) and kissed him with intensity and pure love.  When he pulled away, his eyes were shining, and with an eager nod, agreed.  “All I want is to spend the rest of my life with you.  We don’t need rings, we just need each other.”

“Heh, well, call me old-fashioned, but maybe we can go shopping together?  Pretty sure that your little hell-bent possessiveness may kick in, and once there’s a ring on my finger?  I’m officially off the market.”  Dean wiggled his eyebrows with mischief, and that ignited a new flame inside Castiel.

“Dear Lord, you’re right.  We must do this _immediately_!”  He all but snapped up in bed, and Dean had to soothe him back down.

“Cas, wait, wait, wait!  It’s like, so late at night it’s almost morning!” he couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re really into this, though, aren’t you?”

“Damn right, I am,” he flashed a toothy grin, grabbed Dean’s hand and kissed his knuckles.  “This is for us.  I wanted this for us for a while now and…”

Dean prompted him, “And?”

“You must admit, after the Oscar winner hype dies down, us getting engaged?”  Castiel led in with a smirk that meant nothing but trouble.

Suddenly, Dean understood, because this was his _entire_ damn job in the first place.  “Castiel Novak: settling down and proposing to fiance.  Hell of a headline.  That’ll make a damn good story _and_ keep you in the news.  Which is exactly what my nine-to-five is to begin with.  Wins all around!”

“Mm, I think this is my favorite press-release to date,” Castiel said with the utmost certainty and then added, “Happy Anniversary, Dean,” as they began to snuggle under the covers.

“Happy Anniversary, Cas,” he responded, curling up on his boyfriend’s (fiance’s?) chest with excitement and even more hope for the future.  “Love you so much.”

“Love you, too…” then after a beat of a pause, Cas slowly suggested, “Just the thought of being one another’s…I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fall asleep right away.  It’s too amazing, my mind is...I don’t even _know_ ,” he tried to be honest, wondering if perhaps he should excuse himself to the couch and let Dean get some actual sleep.

Dean admitted right back, “Me, too.  This didn’t go the way I’d thought.  Even hoped or dreamed of.  Hell, it’s the best case scenario I would’ve never come up with, not in a million years.”  While he traced shapes on Cas’ chest he suggested, “Wanna make-out until we’re sleepy?”

Castiel had never said “Yes” quicker in his life.


End file.
